


Till We Make Our Ascent

by Ottermelon



Category: Love Live! School Idol Project
Genre: College, Drama, F/F, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Umi is Withdrawn and Lonely, UmiMaki friendshipping, the slowest of burns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2018-08-13 08:30:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 53,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7969651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ottermelon/pseuds/Ottermelon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One winter night, 3 years removed from her glory days, Umi's writing Muse returns to her. This unexpected rush of inspiration spurs her to dig up old phone contacts, write a song she never thought she would write, and hopefully, tie up her only loose end from back then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Moments In Between

_She sees a place that she’s never been. All that she knows is that it’s a beautiful, vibrant place, and she wants so desperately to stay._

 

_But the details elude her. She can only guess that it’s filled with the colors of spring, a warm breeze telling her that the harsh bite of winter is still so far away._

 

_She knows that it’s all just a dream, and that she will be unable to recall it clearly when she wakes up._

 

\-----------------------------------

 

She probably hadn’t been thinking straight last night.

 

She knew she had been tossing in her sleep recently, so why did she leave her window open again?

 

It was quite the rude awakening; before she could even open her eyes, she felt chills nipping at her bare skin, and all traces of her grogginess vanished.

 

Umi flinched at the rush of cold, her eyes shooting open. She took a moment to scold herself mentally for her restlessness, although it was actually quite impressive that her blankets had managed to end up on the floor. Her long-sleeved pajama shirt, black with a white bird pattern, ultimately failed its purpose as the morning chill snaked its way up her sleeves. She chuckled humorlessly as years of warnings about sleeping incorrectly, from friends and family alike, flitted through her mind. It was a miracle that she hadn’t caught a cold yet.

 

Now fully awake, she sat up, her dark blue hair cascading far down her back. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, and though her arms ached for a long stretch, she had to take care of a more annoying matter first. In a few quick strides, she threw her window curtain open. Her eyes wandered over her now-familiar overlook of the university campus, unappealing as it was, before her stiff fingers slammed the window shut.

 

Finally safe from the bitter cold outside, the girl let out a sigh that she didn’t know she held. She rubbed her numbed hands together. A quiet had overtaken her room after those hectic moments, and she closed her eyes, trying to savor it as best she-

 

*BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP*

 

Umi shot a few inches into the air at the piercing sound, a noise less than a shriek but more than a yelp escaping her. She flushed immediately, even though there was no one around, and glared at her alarm clock. The fact that she was already awake made her feel somewhat ashamed in forgetting to turn it off, and she vented her disappointment by yanking its cord from the socket instead of turning it off the normal way.

 

\-------------------------------------

 

Agitated by her multiple failures from last night and this morning, the girl stood in front of the mirror, holding bunches of unruly blue hair in both of her hands. She cursed herself for neglecting to tie it up before going to bed last night. Reaching for a brush, she tugged the bristles through her unyielding hair, wincing every time the brush forced its way through tangles and knots.

 

“Shorter hair would be much easier to take care of…” Her voice, still slightly raspy with the echoes of sleep, passed her lips and escaped into the confines of the bathroom. She frowned at her folly; alone in her apartment, talking to herself was excusable, but doing so in the middle of class, or while sitting at a table in the school café, only earned her strange glances from her fellow students and even some of the campus staff. It was a new habit that she was not proud of, and this, coupled with her persistent shyness, led her to believe that people who said “you’ll make your best friends in college” were either social butterflies or compulsive liars.

 

Umi returned her focus to the mirror, and realized that she had finished straightening out her hair while reflecting on her own shortcomings.

 

She really had to stop spacing out so often… is what she always told herself, but two years of this had done little to show that she was really improving. Setting her brush back on the sink, she remembered that such despondent thoughts needed to wait until later, or else she would be late for class.

 

\-----------------------------

 

Her morning routine left her a few minutes to spare before the walk to class, so Umi took that time to gather up last night’s discarded blankets, laying them out neatly before taking a seat on the bedside. She glanced at her alarm clock to double-check, before she remembered that it was unplugged from her earlier rage. Instead of getting up to plug it back in, she reached for her smartphone, face-down and silent next to the alarm clock.

 

As she grabbed hold of it, her attention was drawn to the third item on her nightstand, an unassuming notepad with a plastic, tan cover. Her original purpose forgotten, she absently put the phone in her pants pocket before reaching for the little booklet. She couldn’t explain why, but as she did so, her thoughts took her back to last night’s dream.

 

Why couldn’t she ever remember? Her dreams were always the same -  or at least, she _thought_ they were always the same, because she could only remember the same details from all of them. The colors, the sensations, and the _feelings_ were always the same, but such a vague set of details (or lack thereof) didn’t give her much to work with.

 

Umi grimaced, steeling herself as her fingers pried open the notepad. It eased open to the first entry, having done so countless times before. Of course, the same trivial words were there to greet her, scrawled in the haze of excitement and half-sleep:

 

  * Green (garden?)
  * ~~Summer~~ warm breeze?
  * Bright
  * ???



 

The girl sighed. The words didn’t stir any memories in her or lead to any sudden moments of recollection. She didn’t have anything else to add to them either.

 

“I guess I have to admit defeat…” she muttered, tossing the notebook back onto the nightstand. She needed to leave now to make it to class on time, anyway.

 

She took her coat and scarf off of the coat rack next to the door, throwing them on in succession. Taking a moment to gather herself, she stepped out to meet the cold, her thoughts tinged with green.

 

\------------------------------

 

8:00 A.M.

 

Romantic Poetry.

 

Class size: Somewhere in the 200s.

 

Umi didn’t know which of the three facts about her earliest class made her head throb the most, but at the very least, none of them seemed pleasant as she entered the lecture hall. With ten minutes left before the class officially started, she had planned on arriving ten minutes early to secure a seat with minimal trouble. Looking around, she was satisfied to see that the class was far from full, with the students already present either looking over the previous class’s notes or chatting to pass the time.

 

She searched for a good seat briefly before picking one near the back of the class. After pulling out her notes, still open to the most recently written page, she started to review last Friday’s lecture.

 

However, it didn’t take her long to realize that Friday’s class had been an unproductive one. She rubbed her cheek as she flipped back a page, her fears slowly coming into focus.

 

“These aren’t going to help me at all…”

 

“Slacking off in class again, Sonoda-san?”

 

Umi jumped at the sudden voice in her ear, whipping her head around to see a grinning face that she was becoming all too familiar with.

 

“M-Marika-san?! Why must you sneak up on me like that?” Umi protested, her indignance only rising as the other girl snickered.

 

“Sorry, sorry.” Even though her persisting grin indicated otherwise, Marika waved off her actions with an apologetic hand. “You really have to be more careful, you know. What if I wanted to prank you? You’re wide open when you’re spacing out like that.” She shook her head in mock disapproval and her short black bob bounced with the motion, a hairstyle that she had worn ever since Umi had become acquainted with her.

 

Unintentionally, Marika’s words led Umi to think her old friends, who definitely _would_ prank her if she had her guard down. She pushed the memories back down. “I wasn’t spacing out, I was studying.” She gestured to her open notebook.

 

“What can you get out of studying _that?_ ” In a blatant invasion of personal space, the black-haired girl leaned over Umi’s shoulder, brown eyes scrutinizing her notes … if they could even be considered proper notes. Much to her dismay, Marika let out a low whistle after a few moments. “Wow, did you even go to class last week? Looks like you looked up the lectures online and wrote down whatever you could find.”

 

Umi glowered at her and opened her mouth to respond, but the other girl wasn’t finished yet. When Marika turned to look at her, her grin had returned. “Too busy writing lyrics again, huh?”

 

“Hey!” Umi’s voice lowered to a whisper, albeit a fierce one, and her hand reached out to grip her classmate’s shoulder. Easing the other girl off of her, she looked around furtively before continuing. “You said you wouldn’t mention that in public!”

 

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Marika finally took her seat, having been denied access to Umi’s notebook, but she didn’t drop the subject. “If no one else in here has recognized you yet, then they never will!” She winked, flashing the shoulder strap of her bag at Umi to reveal its only accessory: a μ’s button, complete with all nine members bunched into one picture, each one of them smiling broadly.

 

Umi took her eyes off of the button for a moment to glare at Marika. “Still, if you say things like that too loudly, people will get curious.”

 

“Ah, I guess you’re right.” Marika sounded surprised, as if this was some sort of revelation.

 

Umi nodded. “You know I don’t want the extra attention.”

 

The black-haired girl sighed. “I dunno, I think it’d be awesome to have everyone on campus recognize me…” Glancing over to see Umi’s glare, she rubbed the back of her head and hurriedly changed the subject. “Did you finish that rough-draft analysis of the Keats anthology that’s due today?”

 

Inwardly, Umi was relieved that her classmate had finally dropped the matter, but she hid it by reaching for her bag, where said analysis lay amongst her countless other papers. “I did, but I don’t think I put enough thought into it…”

 

“I bet it’s fine~” Marika hummed, more to herself than to Umi, as she took the paper.

 

While Marika looked over her paper, silence finally settled between the two girls. With nothing else to do, Umi’s eyes wandered back to the button on Marika’s bag. Her own face, three years younger but still much the same, beamed back at her, along with the eight other girls she had considered her dearest friends.

 

Happy as the depiction was, staring at it only dredged up unpleasant memories towards the unraveling of μ’s and what happened after that. Umi shook her head lightly and forced her thoughts elsewhere, a more recent time when she met the girl sitting next to her.

 

\--------------------------------

 

_Umi hadn’t expecting anyone to recognize her upon entering college. She was going on her second year away from μ’s, and the people who recognized her on the street were only decreasing with time._

 

_She had been on campus for about a month, and she hadn’t seen any knowing glances sent her way or whispers, quiet as a jet engine, behind her back. Then, she had been sitting alone in her first college writing class when something shiny slid onto her paper._

 

_It was that same μ’s button. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she whirled around in her seat to meet a tall girl sporting a wide grin._

 

_“So it really is you.” The girl spoke first._

 

_“You… know me?” Umi hadn’t prepared to be recognized; in hindsight, that wasn’t her smartest idea._

 

_“I’m a fan! I’d be ashamed not to know the one and only lyricist of μ’s.” She reached over Umi’s portion of the desk to take her button back, fastening it back onto her bag strap. “I thought you girls would go so far after you won the Love Live that year… but I guess life catches up to you, huh?”_

 

_Umi must have looked shocked at the casual mention of their disbanding, because the other girl reddened. “Ah, that’s really insensitive of me.” She looked away sheepishly, scratching her short black hair. “I said all that, and I haven’t properly introduced myself! The name’s Marika,” she stated proudly, extending a hand. “Everyone calls me that, no need to act formal around me!”_

 

_Umi took the hand in hers, and the girls shook. “I’m Sonoda Umi… but it seems you already knew that.”_

 

_Marika nodded. Her grin had returned. “I actually got to shake the hand of an idol!” She cheered, more to herself than to Umi._

 

_The idol in question, however, did take issue with her celebration. “Marika-san!” she hissed, rising out of her seat. “Not so loud!”_

_“Why? You’re an idol! Or you were, anyway,” she corrected herself._

 

_“Well, yes, but no one here knows that.” Umi sighed, sitting back down._

 

_“Really?” Marika surveyed the class. “I guess that explains why you’re always alone…”_

 

_Those words would have stung if they weren’t true. “Yes, so could you please not mention this to anyone else?”_

 

_“Not even to my friends?”_

 

_“If one other person finds out, everyone will find out.” Umi gave her a pointed look._

 

_She was surprised to see Marika’s grin turn mischevious. “The great Sonoda-san wants to share a secret with me? That’s not so bad, either.”_

 

_Umi wanted to roll her eyes, but she restrained herself. “Is that an agreement?”_

 

_“Your secret’s safe with me!” Marika emphasized her point with a hearty slap on Umi’s back. She jumped at the contact, more out of surprise than pain._

 

\------------------------------------

 

As it had turned out, keeping Marika silent about her former idol status was a better move than she had anticipated. The girl seemed to have friends in every department: Umi would see her across campus in the most surprising places, chatting with anyone from sports teams to sororities.

 

With as wide of a circle that she had, it was a stroke of luck that she kept her word; not one other person had approached Umi with the glittering, hungry eyes of a fan. On the other hand, her social butterfly status meant that she only had time for Umi inside the lecture hall. Outside the hall, she always excused herself immediately for group studies, club meetings, or whatever else she crammed into her busy schedule. Though she always invited her, Umi always declined. She knew she couldn’t handle being surrounded by strangers all day, friendly as Marika insisted that they were.

 

A paper floated back onto her portion of the desk, her paper. Umi picked it up, turning questioningly back to a hesitant Marika.

 

The other girl leaned in close. “You should probably get that paper looked over by your T.A.,” she whispered.

 

The blue-haired girl sighed. She had seen this coming. It didn’t make her any less disappointed in herself, though.

 

She closed her eyes and wondered when class would be over.

 

\---------------------------------

 

Umi couldn’t relax. Not when the teacher’s aide was burning a hole into her Keats analysis with his eyes. At Marika’s urging, she had gone to her T.A.’s office to get a second opinion, but now she was seriously starting to question that decision.

 

“Sonoda-san.” Her aide, Satoshi, adjusted his rounded glasses as he lowered her paper.

 

“Y-yes?” Umi couldn’t tell if he was trying to intimidate her, or he was just building up to his big reveal that her paper was a steaming pile of garbage.

 

He held that expression for a moment longer before letting out a sigh. “Sonoda-san, how’s college treating you? Are you having a hard time adjusting?”

 

Umi tried her best to maintain a neutral expression, though she wondered why her aide suddenly had such an interest in her personal life. “I’m fine....” she replied. “It’s nothing too difficult or stressful.”

 

Satoshi nodded, handing back her paper. Umi took it, curious to why he hadn’t offered any feedback yet. “That’s good, that’s good,” he nodded, almost absently. “I’m asking because it’s related to what I have to say about your paper, before you ask.” He chuckled after Umi flushed red, her thoughts now out in the open. The smile didn’t last long, as his brow furrowed in thought.

 

“Look, I’m sure you know what I’m about to tell you, so I don’t take pleasure in it.” He folded his hands on his desk. He looked too professional. Umi nodded, letting him continue.

 

“I know you can write better than this. _You_ know you can write better than this. I recognized your name when you signed up for this class. In all our meetings, one of the first-year T.A.’s always talked about how one of her students had this gift for understanding poetry. She said that her student had such an amazing grasp on the poet’s emotions, like she could _feel_ those emotions the same way those poets did, exactly as they described it.” His voice rose steadily as he went on, until he was practically shouting, filling up the otherwise empty room. Clearing his throat, Satoshi continued with a more calm demeanor. “Did you ever receive feedback of that nature, Sonoda-san?”

 

Umi nodded, although a frown creased her face. “I never understood what she meant by that, exactly...”

 

“But you get the idea, right? You have a talent, Sonoda-san!” Satoshi answered his own question. “People like you who have such a firm grasp on the emotions that lay within an arrangement of words, especially in the intricate art form of poetry, can go on to achieve great things! Maybe students will read about you in a textbook, years from now!”

 

_But I don’t want to be read about in a textbook..._ “That sounds like a lonely path to take.” Umi pictured the scenario in her head for a second, indulging her senior’s visions of grandeur.

 

Satoshi nodded gravely. “Yes, but to be forever misunderstood is the price a great writer must pay.” Luckily, he seemed to remember the reason Umi had come to him in that very moment, because he hurriedly gestured towards her paper. “Right, your analysis! It’s just not something that a ‘great writer’ would produce.”

 

At this, he produced a notepad and paper from one of his desk drawers. “It’s adequate if you’d just like a passing grade in this class, but it’s far too rudimentary for anything beyond that.” He motioned at her paper, and Umi realized after a moment that he wanted her to open it up. She complied, and only then did Satoshi continue, while he scribbled down characters on his notepad. “We _know_ , we _know_ that Keats loved to write about death. You don’t have to mention that in every other sentence. That’s high school stuff.”

 

Apparently he was done writing, since he ripped the note off of its pad. He offered it to Umi, who accepted it. “Like I just said, you have to tap into what the author was _thinking_ when he wrote this. I know people _love_ to say that ‘there’s no wrong interpretation’ for a writing piece” - at this, he rolled his eyes, an exaggerated gesture that made Umi want to roll hers - “but I believe some are more right than others.”

 

His pen jabbed at the blue-haired girl as he spoke. “And I believe that _you_ can figure out what lies past all of Keats’ talk about death, Sonoda-san. The ‘more right’ answer waits for you, you just have to try a little harder! I listed more feedback for you on that note you’re holding. Please do consider it as you write your final draft.”

 

Sensing that her aide’s lecture was over, Umi stood up stiffly. “Thank you very much.” After a swift bow, she turned for the exit. She didn’t want to stay in that suffocating office for a moment longer.

 

\-----------------------------------

 

She didn’t waste a second; after the door to the office closed, she let out a long sigh. Her hand instinctively went to her forehead as she tried to put some distance between herself and that draining feedback session.

 

A quick glance up at the darkening sky told her that she had spent too long in there, just as she had feared.Umi tried not to think about it as she began the long walk back to her room, but keeping her train of thought from barrelling down that path never worked.

 

Admittedly, he had unmatched passion for the “art of poetry,” as he called it, and his enthusiasm could be infectious… on the good days. On the bad ones, well…

 

Umi shuddered, suppressing memories of hours in Satoshi’s office as he rambled on and on about the benefits, the unexplored possibilities, and the inside-outs of their “craft.” The longer his lectures dragged on, the longer his sentences and the more expansive his vocabulary got. It was a small miracle as to how he never managed to run out of breath -

 

She bumped into another student, who shot Umi a look as she mumbled an apology. Hopefully that didn’t mean she had been talking to herself again.

 

Under normal circumstances, Umi would have been _grateful_ to have an aide as passionate as him, one who was so intent on helping her improve (in his roundabout way)... if his lectures didn’t always lead back to the same message:

 

_“You can write better than this.”_

 

_“You have so much potential!”_

 

_“Why aren’t you trying harder?”_

 

It took many different forms, but Umi always heard the same thing. She wasn’t living up to her “potential.”

 

She hated that word. She hated it because she _was_ trying, and she _knew_ that she could do better than she was. She wanted to say that she had used up all of her inspiration already, used it all three years ago to pursue a dream that she had truly believed to be within reach.

 

Back then, it certainly seemed within reach.

 

Now…

 

Now, she stood in front of the door to her apartment.

 

“Gods, when did I become so depressing?”

 

Her old self would have told her that there was a way out of this, and that the way out demanded hard work and a strong mind.

 

But she had left her old self at home, before she left for university. She only had one of those traits now.

 

Her writing classes had failed to bring any sort of inspiration back thus far. Umi refused to consider what would happen if this was the norm from now on, since she already knew. She could already hear the voices swirling in her head, all echoing the same thing: _“What happened to her?”_

 

Umi dug for the apartment keys in her bag. She could think about this inside, where it was warmer.

 

\-----------------------------------

 

“I’m back…” She murmured the words; soft so only she could hear them.

 

As always, she opened the door to an empty apartment. She didn’t mind the silence. It let her be alone with her thoughts.

 

_Although_ , she mused, _too much time alone is probably unhealthy_.

 

Umi shrugged off the thought, falling onto her mattress. She sunk into the comforters, sighing with relief. It was almost dark outside…

 

...but a quick nap would energize and motivate her to write her final draft, she reasoned. Satoshi’s lecture had taken a lot out of her, anyway.

 

Her eyes were already closing when she realized that she had yet to plug in her alarm clock from that morning’s incident. By then, it was too late. She swore that she could see green already, in her last moments of consciousness.

 

            …

 

            ….

 

            ….

 

She bolted up and out of her sleep, wide awake in a moment. This was it. She _remembered_.

 

She groped around in the dark, her golden eyes blinking rapidly to adjust to the darkness of her room. Finding purchase on her smartphone, she clicked the power on, only to shut her eyes at the sudden burst of light. The pain subsided after a moment, and she was able to crack her eyes open to a squint, enough to read the time in bright white text.

 

2:21 A.M. She still had more than five hours before class.

 

Perfect.

 

Umi leapt out of bed, swiping her notepad off of the nightstand. At her desk, she flicked on the lamp, flinching again at the light flooding her room, and sat on the bare wooden chair. With a satisfying click of the pen, she began to write.

 

She had forgotten how it felt, how _naturally_ the words came to her. A year of college writing classes had only left a bad taste in her mouth, regardless of the grades that she received.

 

When she wrote lyrics, it seemed like she had only to touch her pen to the paper, and her hand moved of its own accord. She had tried, and failed, to do so enough times in the past that she was certain that her inspiration had left her.

 

_It could have picked a better time to return_ , Umi thought as she wrote, but she certainly wasn’t complaining.

 

\----------------------------------

 

When she lifted pen from paper, she felt drained, excited, and nervous all at once. How long had it been since she started? Maybe she had to get ready for class soon…

 

2;53 A.M.

 

“Oh.”

 

What to do now? Her mind still buzzed with metaphors and rhymes and unsung melodies. There was no way she’d be able to sleep now.

 

She stood up, her chair clattering from the sudden motion. The mad flurry of writing had left her fingers shaking with energy; she had to do something. Taking a few paces around her room, her eyes drifted over to her closed window. She threw it open, and a shudder ran down her body as the frigid night air rushed into her room, but she welcomed the feeling.

 

Her thoughts slowed to a more reasonable clip, and Umi was able to see the first issue with her situation.

 

Back when she actually held songwriting duties, her friends were always eager to look over and critique her lyrics the next day. Here, though, no one even knew about that part of her.

 

Umi felt the beginnings of discouragement seep into her before her eyes lit up. There _was_ someone here who could help!

 

Her smartphone still lay on her desk. She snatched it up, opening her contact list and breezing through the short list of names before finding the intended one: Nishikino Maki. She moved over to their text message history, just to confirm that her memory was correct.

 

_Maki: hey, umi._

 

_Maki: i know it’s been a while, but i’ll be attending your college next year_

 

_Maki: Mama and Papa told me that you have a good bio program over there, so i tested for it and i got in_

 

_Maki: we probably won’t see each other that much, but if you want to meet or get lunch or just talk, i’ll be there_

 

_Maki: if i’m not too busy, of course_

 

_Umi: That’s great news! I hope to see you soon. Good luck._

 

Reading over the timestamps, Umi realized that their conversation had been in March, more than six months ago.

 

Her finger moved to press the “Call” icon… and then she hesitated. Tentative as they were, their plans to meet up had fallen through with nary a word mentioned from either party. Would Maki mind her breaking the silence? _Especially with a request like this one…_

 

She pressed the call icon. She had to do _something_ about this; she couldn’t let her inspiration slip away just when it had finally found her again.

 

Her phone was on the second ring when she realized that she was calling at three in the morning. Some reason entered her adrenaline-addled mind, and she wanted to slap herself for her lack of self-control.

 

But there was no turning back at this point. “She’s a biology major. Maybe she’s staying up late, doing homework…” Umi mused aloud.

 

Homework or otherwise, she was ultimately greeted with an automated voice after the fourth ring. That was probably a good thing. She chastised herself for thinking that Maki, or anyone, expected a call at three in the morning.

 

With her head finally on straight, Umi took another look at the completed lyrics on her desk. It was less than twenty lines, less than a full page long… but it was a start. And it made her heart throb with happiness.

 

She was ready to take it farther, to go through the process one more time… but it could wait another day or two to start, she supposed.

 

\-----------------------------------

 

The professor was in the middle of a lecture on Coleridge when Umi’s phone went off. Luckily, she was sitting in the back as she always did, so she only had to endure the half-curious, half-judgmental stares from her classmates for a couple seconds before she made it outside.

 

She ignored the chill of the outside air as her hand probed her pants pocket, fishing out her phone after a moment. She peered at the contact name as it came into focus: Nishikino Maki. Her heart leapt and she hurried to press the ‘Answer’ part of her screen.

 

“Maki? What is it?”

 

“Don’t ‘What is it’ me!” The familiar voice snapped back, and despite its bite, Umi had to smile. “Why did you call me at three in the morning?! Has something happened to you?”

 

“Sorry.” Umi flushed red upon hearing that her overzealousness had been taken the wrong way. “I’m fine, it’s just… I was rather worked up last night, you see…”

 

She heard Maki sigh on the other end. “Worked up? About what?” came the response.

 

“Hmm…” Umi looked back to the lecture hall, realizing she had left everything in there in her rush to get out. It would be easier to explain herself if was able to show Maki what she was working on, so…

 

“I can show you. Are you free for lunch?”

 

“Eh? Today?” The other girl sounded surprised. Umi couldn’t blame her.

 

“Yes! As soon as possible!”

 

“...”

 

“I’ll pay for you!” Umi clenched her free hand into a fist, even though the show of determination was lost over the phone.

 

“Okay, okay!” Maki relented. “I have a class that doesn’t get out until 2:30, is all. I hope you don’t mind waiting.”

 

“I can wait!”

 

“It’s that important, huh? Ah, I guess I’ll see later today.” The line went dead, cutting off Umi from getting anything else in edgewise.

 

Umi didn’t realize that she was smiling until she put her phone back in her coat pocket. Replaying the conversation with Maki over in her head, she pumped her fist in the air, giggling with happiness.

 

Then she realized that she was still on a public campus. She glanced around, making sure no one had seen her little spectacle, and hurried back inside. Hopefully, everyone had forgotten about her earlier disruption.

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There isn't enough HonoUmi in the world. Don't worry, this one will get there... eventually.
> 
> I don't know anything about the Japanese college system, so I tried to write the setting without making up too many details.
> 
> I don't know how prevalent teaching assistants are there, nor do I know if students there can choose their own class times vs. following the same class schedule.
> 
> If anyone does know, feel free to call me out on my ignorance.


	2. I Hear That Music Play

_The same summer breeze, the same green that surrounded her. This time, though, she could see, and she knew that she would remember._

 

_The blades of grass that rustled in the wind, tickling her legs, although she didn’t mind the feeling. A clear sky, with white, fluffy clouds that broke the otherwise constant blue above her. Behind her, a light gathering of trees, in front of her, an expanse of rolling hills. She could almost see them sway with the wind, although she knew it was just an illusion._

 

_This time, she knew she would remember them when she woke up._

 

\-------------------------------------

 

The packet of sugar was torn open, its contents then emptied into the steaming coffee cup.

 

Umi could only watch as Maki, her lunch partner for the day, stirred the hot drink with one hand. Her chin rested on the other hand, propped up by her elbow.

 

The blue-haired girl berated herself for feeling nervous. She and Maki were friends: that is, they _had been_ friends back in high school. But that meant they were still friends, right? It wasn’t like they had agreed to be Not Friends.

 

Umi suppressed a sigh. She was overthinking this. Maki had agreed to go to lunch with her, sudden as the invitation was. She wouldn’t really call that a ‘lunch,’ though; the redhead had only asked for a coffee at the register, and refused to let Umi buy her anything else. (“That’s what I have for breakfast all the time,” she reasoned in the face of Umi’s protests. She had won, of course.)

 

Still, Umi couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious as she stared at her plain sandwich. She had always been taught that it was rude to eat front of people who didn’t -

 

“Are you just going to sit there and wait for me to talk first?”

 

The question cut through the building silence. Umi looked up to see that Maki hadn’t moved from her bored-looking position, but her eyes now bored directly into her.

 

Umi shifted instinctually. “Come again?” she managed.

 

“You’re the one that invited me to lunch.” Maki reached for the plastic coffee cup lid, fitting it in its right place. “From how frantic you sounded on the phone, it must be pretty important.” Taking a sip, she grimaced, apparently unsatisfied with her mixture.

 

“Oh, you could tell…” She felt her cheeks flush with heat. Maki’s only response was to raise an eyebrow, so Umi continued. “You’re right, it’s something important. To me, at least.” She produced a folded paper from her bag. “I would like your help.”

 

Maki remained silent as she took the paper. It was remarkable, and somewhat intimidating, how she managed to keep that same bored pose as her eyes moved across Umi’s writing.

 

It didn’t take long for her to look back at Umi, who was fidgeting while waiting for feedback. “Is this an assignment? You’re taking poetry classes right now, right?” The redhead inquired, indicating Umi’s paper with a wave of her hand.

 

“Um, something like that?” _Does she really not know?_

 

Her unsure answer didn’t seem to help. “Umi, I’d love to help you with your homework, but my classes are keeping me busy, too.” Maki pushed the paper back across the table. “More importantly, my writing classes aren’t nearly that intense. Why don’t you ask your classmates to revise for you instead?”

 

Umi stared at her junior. She had been prepared for a variety of reactions from the other girl, but “completely misunderstanding” hadn’t been on that list. “Maki, that’s not my homework.”

 

“Eh? But aren’t you-”

 

“Those are lyrics. _Song_ lyrics.”

 

Maki met her stare, not breaking eye contact until she held Umi’s work in front of her again. This time, her eyes scanned the page with considerably more interest.

 

The second read-through seemed much longer than the first. Umi was running out of things to fidget with when Maki finally lowered her paper. “So… you showed me this because -”

 

“Yes.” Umi could tell where she was headed. “I want you to write a song with me. Specifically, you’d be in charge of the music.”

 

Maki was now looking at her oddly, probably thinking that she was crazy. She would be right. They hadn’t written a song together in years, most of μ’s had gone their separate ways by now, and here she came like a bolt from the blue with this ludicrous request.

 

It was only natural for Maki to voice such concerns aloud. “Why do you want to write a song _now_? Is this for some sort of μ’s Reunion Tour? How will the others even react when they hear that we’re writing another song?” Despite her rapid firing of difficult questions, the redhead didn’t seem angry. Just really _confused._

 

Umi looked down. She had expected Maki to be skeptical about her idea, but that didn’t mean she had any counterpoints. “To tell you the truth, I haven’t even considered telling the other girls yet. I’m not very good at keeping in touch with them…” she confessed, poking at her sandwich.

 

“We know, Umi.” Maki stated. Her bluntness made the blue-haired girl flinch. “So, like I said, why _now_?”

 

Umi knew that she wasn’t putting together a very convincing case. Still, she could only shrug and say, “I don’t know. I just felt like writing lyrics again.”

 

She looked up, thinking Maki would roll her eyes. Instead, one corner of her mouth curled up into a smile. “That’s the last thing I thought you would say.”

 

Umi sighed with relief. “What did you think I would say?” She smiled back.

 

It was Maki’s turn to shrug. “You were always the one with a plan. ‘I want to because I feel like it’ is something Honoka would say.”

 

When was the last time Umi had heard that name? “Honoka…” she murmured. “I guess you’re right.” A chuckle escaped her.

 

“You really don’t have any other reasons?” Maki had turned her attention back to her quickly cooling coffee, adding some pre-packaged creamer to the mix.

 

“I don’t.” Umi shook her head. “My inspiration could have picked a better time to come back.”

 

“Your inspiration?” Maki echoed. “You’re so cheesy.”

 

Umi opened her mouth to defend herself, but stopped upon realizing that was probably just Maki’s version of a friendly jibe. Remembering why she had asked Maki out to lunch in the first place, her voice took on a more serious tone.“If you don’t want to compose the music, I’d understand. It’s a silly request.”

 

To her surprise, Maki looked away. Umi could still see how her face reddened. “I haven’t played the piano since I started university.”

 

“That’s understandable. Since you’re so busy, I don’t want to distract you from your studies.”

 

“N-no, I think I can make time if it’s important. It’s just…”

 

When the redhead failed to continue, Umi tilted her head. “Just what?”

 

“...How hard do you want to make this song?” Maki still wouldn’t make eye contact with her.

 

“How hard…?” Umi looked down in thought. It was a bit of an odd question. “As in, the range of the vocals? Or the musical arrangement?”

 

“The second one.” Maki seemed oddly nervous; now she was the one fidgeting.

 

“Why, I thought I’d leave it up to you…” Umi trailed off, slowly realizing why Maki was asking her. She couldn’t help herself; a smile dawned on her face. She’d be lying if she claimed that it wasn’t _slightly_ mischievous. “Maki, I’m _sure_ that you’re still skilled enough to make _any_ arrangement work. You don’t have to worry about that.”

 

Just as planned, her junior flushed a shade of red to match her hair, her eyes widening at the accusation. “Th-that’s not it!” she stammered, indignant. “I just-”

 

“You’re the best piano player I know.” Umi continued, stopping Maki’s defense in its tracks. “Even if you haven’t practiced in months.”

 

Maki seemed to relax, although she was still having trouble getting that blush to leave her face. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere with me.” She huffed, taking a quick sip of her coffee.

 

“ _And_ you’re the best composer I know.”

 

“Jeez! You’re so shameless!” Umi raised an eyebrow at the use of her own phrase, but she didn’t have time for more than that as Maki leaned in, her blue eyes dangerously narrow. “I’ll do it, okay? Stop laying it on so thick.”

 

“I was just trying to convince you.” Umi rubbed the back of her head, some self-consciousness at what she had just said finally setting in.

 

Maki rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. “I would have agreed either way, you know.”

 

“Really?”

 

“I study every day, but…” She shrugged. “A break from that would be nice.”

 

Umi nodded, not knowing how to respond. Luckily, she didn’t have to, since Maki continued. “Also, you look like you really want to see this through.”

 

“Huh?” The perceptive comment caught Umi off-guard. “You can tell?”

 

“Well, it dragged you out from wherever you’ve been hiding these last two years.” Maki gave her a pointed look.

 

Umi felt like she was being judged. “Ah, I guess you’re right…” She didn’t want to stay on the subject, but any further words eluded her.

 

“Anyway, if my grades start slipping because of this, you’re ready to take full responsibility, right?” Maki crossed her arms. Umi couldn’t tell if she was joking. Then again, Maki rarely joked around.

 

“It _was_ my idea, I suppose, but what do you mean by that?”

 

Maki reached for her coffee again. Umi thought a reminder to drink it faster would help, since it was probably getting cold, but she was too curious about Maki’s proposal to say anything.

 

“It’s easy. I’ll compose the song for you, on one condition.”

 

Umi leaned in, her hands clasped together. “And that condition would be...?”

 

“If my grades go down before Christmas break, I have a request for you.”

 

Umi sighed. It wasn’t like Maki to talk in circles. “ _And_?!”

 

To her annoyance, Maki stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder and scooping up her coffee in one motion. “I’ll tell you what it is when it happens. And I’ll update you as I work on the song.” She held up her phone with her free hand. It had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. “Anyway, I have class in ten minutes. See you.”

 

Just like that, Maki was gone, and Umi was left with her mouth half-open. Unspoken questions faltered on the tip of her tongue. Maki had just agreed to compose the song for her… but she hadn’t expected her junior to have a request in return! What could her ulterior motive possibly be?

 

Umi shook her head, scattering her doubtful thoughts. Maki was still her friend. Surely, it was a request that would benefit the both of them… or at least, it wouldn’t _hurt_ either of them.

 

...But then, why was she so tight-lipped about it?

 

Umi pursed her lips in disapproval. Her appetite had vanished, so she threw the pre-made sandwich into her bag. She could eat it in her room, provided she could get there fast enough. It wasn’t doing her any good to overthink it: Maki had agreed to compose her song, and that was the important part.

 

Still, one thing Maki had said stuck in the blue-haired girl’s mind as she stood up to leave.

 

_“I’ll tell you what it is when it happens.”_

 

“‘When’ it happens…” Umi muttered. “Not ‘if’ it happens.”

 

It was ridiculous. Someone as studious Maki wouldn’t deliberately tank her grades, her _college_ grades no less, just for one request… would she?

 

Umi pushed in her chair, but something on the table caught her eye. A generous pile of coins lay on the table where Maki’s coffee had been. She swiped them up, putting a hand to her forehead in disbelief as she counted them out.

 

“Come on… I said I’d pay for her, too.”

 

\-----------------------

 

Her phone was now set to vibrate after the incident in the lecture hall that morning. It still did its job of getting Umi’s attention as it buzzed twice on the desk.

 

She took her eyes off of her frustratingly blank word document, grateful for the distraction. A new text message greeted her as she clicked the screen on:

 

_Maki: you didn’t tell me how you wanted your lyrics structured_

 

Umi blinked, going over her lyrics in her head. Maki was right: she hadn’t labeled which lines would serve which purpose. She looked back at her phone, about to type an apology, but it buzzed in her hand.

 

_Maki: did you have something in mind or are you leaving that up to me?_

 

Her fingers moved up and down the virtual keyboard.

 

_Umi: Sorry, it just slipped my mind. I still have my lyrics too, you need a copy for yourself anyway. I’ll give it to you in a second._

 

Her homework forgotten for the moment, she set her lyrics out on the desk. This would only take a moment, but every step closer made her heart race. Was it excitement? Nerves? Satisfaction?

 

She didn’t know, but that was okay for now.

 

A minute later, Umi held her phone over the paper, and she squinted to prepare for the camera flash.

 

_Umi: Here’s the lyrics. I imagine the structure to be a little different than most of what we did in μ’s. What do you think?_

 

She got a response right away. Apparently, Maki had already started taking those studying breaks she mentioned.

 

_Maki: huh_

 

_Maki: three verses, two choruses, a bridge, and an outro?_

 

_Maki: what have you been listening to lately_

 

Umi ignored the snide remark… although maybe it was actually an earnest question. She could never tell through text alone.

 

_Umi: Does that give you any ideas?_

 

_Maki: umi_

 

_Maki: it’s been 3 hours since you showed me the lyrics_

 

_Maki: i need more time than that_

 

_Umi: When do you think you’ll be done?_

 

_Maki: before christmas break_

 

_Maki: seriously_

 

_Maki: 3 hours_

 

Umi tapped her phone lightly against her forehead. Maki was right. She was getting ahead of herself. Maki had a little less than three weeks if she wanted to be done before Christmas break, and even though it was more than enough time for someone like her, that time would probably fly by before either of them knew it.

 

She put her phone down, realizing it had drawn her away from her homework for too long, but it seemed intent on keeping her distracted, because it buzzed again.

 

_Maki: let’s get lunch tomorrow again_

 

_Maki: can’t let you go back into your shell_

 

_Maki: now that you finally showed yourself_

 

Umi sighed, yet she couldn’t help the smile that followed. If it was coming from Maki, the truth hurt a little less.

 

_Umi: You make it sound like I’m a NEET…  I’m paying this time, okay?_

 

_Maki: sure, sure_

 

_Umi: Do you always have a late lunch?_

 

_Maki: yeah_

 

_Maki: 2:30 every day_

 

_Umi: Okay, that’s fine._

 

After waiting for a moment, she guessed that Maki wasn’t planning on responding. She clicked her phone off, sliding it across her desk so it was out of her reach. Turning her attention back to her laptop, she rubbed her hands together, looking at her writing prompt with a renewed anticipation. It didn’t feel exactly like she was back in μ’s again. Maybe this song would be a little different than anything they had made then. Hopefully, Maki felt the same way.

 

\---------------------------------

 

“Hold on a second.”

 

They were seated at the same table as yesterday, at the same time as yesterday. Before anything else, she needed to clear up a glaring flaw in Maki’s “lunch” of choice.

 

“Is coffee the only thing you have for lunch?!” She gestured towards the accused party.

 

“Huh?” Maki raised an eyebrow. “I always have a coffee for breakfast. I said so yesterday, too.”

 

“Breakfast?” The two girls stared at each other. Umi couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “...You haven’t eaten today?”

 

Maki shook her head lightly, like this was completely normal. “I usually don’t wake up until noon, and I have class around that time, so I don’t eat until afterwards.”

 

Umi couldn’t stop herself from staring.

 

“Stop staring at me. Not everyone can wake up early for morning classes like you, Umi.” Maki twirled her hair with a finger, an obvious act of self-consciousness.

 

Umi blinked, bringing herself back to reality. “Sorry. But that means…” she looked down at the coffee again, then back up to Maki, “... you only eat once a day?”

 

“No, it’s usually twice a day. Once in the afternoon after all of my classes are done, and once before I go to bed.”

 

“Those two times are pretty close together, aren’t they?” That was one possible situation. The alternative was…

 

“I go to bed around four in the morning. Depends on how much homework I have,” Maki stated. She was being awfully nonchalant about this.

 

Umi’s eyes widened. “I get that everyone has different schedules, but…” She shrugged, at a loss for words. “What do you eat? All of the halls are closed by then.”

 

“I usually have something in the freezer. My roommates and I are all science majors, so we’re all up pretty late. We’re used to it by now.”

 

“So the rumors about science majors are true.” The blue-haired girl nodded slowly, processing all this new information. Some of it wasn’t very reassuring, though… “You can’t eat frozen food all the time, right? It really does terrible things to your body.”

 

Maki shrugged again. “It’s fine. No problems so far.”

 

“That won’t do!” Umi exclaimed, drawing a couple of looks from some nearby students… and from Maki herself. Lowering her voice, she continued, but she couldn’t ignore the heat that had taken presence on her face. “I cook for myself whenever I get tired of the food they sell here. You can come over to my apartment when that happens to you.”

 

Maki didn’t seem to approve as she crossed her arms. “What are you, my mom? Besides, is that really okay? I’m sure your roommates would mind.”

 

“N-no, it’s fine.” Umi looked down, suddenly feeling ashamed. “I live by myself.”

 

“Oh.” Maki’s eyes softened instantly. “Well, okay then… only because you’re so insistent.”

 

Umi chuckled, her shame from moments before now gone. “I have a lot of time on my hands, I suppose.”

 

Maki uncrossed her arms, reaching for her coffee… which was probably getting cold again. “Really? You don’t have club meetings or a job or anything like that?”

 

“I had a job last year, but I quit over summer break. I haven’t reapplied this year, and I thought that I’d rather spend the time studying.” Umi frowned as she recalled hours and hours of sitting in the backroom of the library, cataloging endless amounts of books. “It wasn’t too exciting, either.”

 

“What about study groups? Or friends that you’ve made here?”

 

“Um…” She wasn’t very proud of this. “I… don’t have friends like that here.” She only had herself to blame for that, of course, as she thought of all the times that Marika had invited her to one of her many social activities. Maki didn’t need to know all of that, though.

 

“I see…” Maki stared at her, rubbing her chin with one hand. She probably wasn’t expecting that, given her lack of a proper response, but Umi also sensed a hint of pity in her eyes to accompany her surprise. “When I said that you’ve been hiding for these last two years, it really wasn’t an exaggeration.”

 

Umi’s ears burned with embarrassment. “I know, but do you have to say it like that? I’m not exactly proud of it.”

 

“Ah. Sorry.” Her blue eyes suddenly lit up. “Right, I wanted to ask you something about your lyrics.”

 

Now that the uncomfortable part of the conversation seemed over, Umi finally turned her attention to her sandwich, the same as yesterday’s. She was intent on finishing it this time, though. “Go ahead.”

 

Maki leaned in, and Umi felt the intensity of her gaze. It was almost if her junior was trying to pick her apart. “Why did you want to write them?”

  
She raised an eyebrow, confused. “I told you yesterday, didn’t I? I just wanted to.”

 

“No, that’s not what I mean.” Maki’s eyes narrowed a little, not out of anger, but out of curiosity. “I know that. I want to know what gave you the idea. Where your inspiration came from, as you put it.”

 

Umi took a bite of her sandwich, chewing it thoughtfully as she turned the request over in her head. “Why do you want to know?”

 

“How you felt when you wrote these-” at this, Maki held up her phone, where last night’s picture of her lyrics was displayed. “- should be considered when I write the music. I’m probably going to make the sound different depending on the emotions that went into it. You want this song to sound a certain way, right?”

 

“Hmm… I guess I do, but I don’t really know how to explain it.” She offered Maki the other half of her sandwich, but the other girl declined it with a wave of her hand.

 

“Explaining it is my job, after all.” Maki responded, almost as if she was expecting Umi to say that. “So?”

 

Umi smiled inwardly as snippets of yesterday’s conversation replayed in her head. “You said I was cheesy yesterday, didn’t you? I might actually agree with that.” She laughed, but Maki remained silent. She continued after clearing her throat.

 

“I started having these dreams around this time last year. The first few times it happened, I didn’t think anything of it, in part because I could never remember them clearly.

 

“After a couple of weeks, I thought to start keeping a dream journal to see if it could help me remember, since they weren’t getting clearer. That failed pretty quickly, since I kept remembering the same handful of details and nothing more, so writing the same things down every night wouldn’t have helped me. I gave up after the first entry.”

 

She looked up from her sandwich to make sure that she still had Maki’s attention. The redhead’s eyes were still on her; thankfully, she couldn’t find any hints of disbelief on Maki’s face. This encouraged her, and she continued.

 

“I had them at least a few times a week, but I could never figure out what they meant, no matter how much I wanted to. So -” she trailed off as Maki suddenly broke eye contact, reaching for her bag. After a moment, she produced a notebook and pen, but Umi couldn’t see what she had started to write.

 

The redhead looked at her expectantly when she didn’t continue. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”

 

Umi raised an eyebrow. “Are you writing down what I’m saying?”

 

“Of course. You want me to write a good song, right?”

 

“I do, but-”

 

“Like I said, your feelings are a really important part of songwriting. And there’s a lot of feeling in what you’re saying.”

 

Once again, Umi was startled by her friend’s perceptiveness. “Do you like people-watching?”

 

Maki leaned back ever so slightly in her chair, but the scowl on her face was much more obvious. “What does that have to do anything?”

 

“You’re really observant, is all. Have you been talking to Nozomi recently?” Briefly, a thought flashed in Umi’s head: perhaps their mischievous senior had asked Maki to check in on her? It wasn’t an unrealistic assumption, especially if the other girls still worried about her like Maki had hinted at yesterday.

 

“Not any more than I usually do.” The redhead shook her head. That probably meant that Nozomi hadn’t given her any crazy ideas. “Anyway, I have to be observant, don’t I? I think it’s better for me to be in tune with people’s feelings. I write better music that way.”

 

Umi wanted to remark on her friend’s surprising wisdom again, but kept the comment to herself, figuring it would just send her into another state of denial. Maki didn’t give her the chance to, anyway, as she steered the conversation back onto its intended track. “Back to the interview. Where were we?”

 

 _Interview?_ Umi raised an eyebrow but didn’t question it; the term was much more accurate now that Maki had her pen and paper primed and ready. “Right. It got to the point where I just gave up on figuring it out since it was so frustrating, but they didn’t stop. I feel like I put too much thought into them, because it’s been affecting how I saw my life in college and my schoolwork.”

 

Maki interrupted her to ask, “What do you mean?” Her eyes didn’t leave her notebook, however.

 

Umi took a deep breath. She had said too much to go back now. Apparently, today was the day she’d open up about her insecurities; some of them, anyway. “I said before that I haven’t made many friends since I got here, but that’s not entirely true. I think it’s more accurate to say that I haven’t made any real friends yet.

 

She put down her sandwich; she needed her full concentration to make sure she didn’t make this next part sound like a plea for pity. “People have tried to talk to me, and I don’t have a problem with that, but as soon as they find out that I don’t do much other than attend class and study in my room, they start to worry. They tell me to join their club, or to study with their group of friends, or some other social activity. And as soon as they do, I start to think of what could go wrong. They’re trying to get introduce me to all of these strangers, you know? I worry that they’ll think I’m this awkward, unapproachable person, or that I’m weird for not trying to make friends, and I just think that I’ll be a social disaster whenever I go.”

 

Umi poked her index fingers together, ashamed at admitting how much of a recluse she had become. “So I would just rather study by myself than subject myself to that. It’s a vicious cycle, I know. The longer I shut myself in, the worse it gets.” She laughed, a sad, humorless laugh.

 

Maki didn’t seem fully convinced. “You could perform in front of thousands of people in μ’s, but you can’t talk to twenty or so people in a study group? I think the stakes are a lot lower when you compare them.”

 

“Yes, but I think it’s different now. In high school, I had you and all the other girls with me. You pushed me to do all of those things when I never could have dreamed of doing them myself.” After a moment, she added, “Especially Honoka.” Her stomach knotted at the mention of the girl’s name. “No matter how much I protested, you girls always knew that I could write lyrics that would bring us to the top, or that I could perform on stage along with everyone else.

 

“It’s not like that here. I don’t have anyone to push me anymore, and I haven’t kept in touch with you or the other girls, so there isn’t anyone to encourage me to try harder to make friends or step outside my comfort zone.”

 

She looked to her junior for a reaction, but she had to wait a moment as Maki’s pen was still moving across the paper. The redhead looked up when she was done, her expression unreadable. “You said your dreams were too unclear to take anything away from them, right?”

 

It seemed a little off-topic, but Umi went with it, since she probably had a reason for asking now. “For about a year, yes.”

 

“But they still influenced you that much? And they led you to all of those conclusions?”

 

When put that way, it didn’t seem to add up. Umi’s eyes drifted around the room, letting the questions hang in the air so she could weigh them. She answered, slowly, “As you can probably tell by now, it wasn’t the details that stuck with me. I think it was the feeling.”

 

Maki’s pen, previously moving rhythmically across the paper, came to a halt. She remained silent, but her blue eyes were now fully on Umi.

 

“I think the reason I wanted to know what they meant, and why I was having those dreams, is because I wanted to replicate how they made me feel.” She rubbed at her chin with one hand, falling silent. It wasn’t to keep Maki in suspense, she just didn’t know how to answer the question that would surely follow.

 

She didn’t have to wait long as Maki leaned in. “How did they make you feel?” She couldn’t contain her curiosity, it seemed.

 

Umi only shook her head, her hand still restless and moving across the underside of her face. A few seconds wasn’t long enough to come up with a proper answer. “A sense of longing, I suppose? I don’t know. It made me feel like I didn’t want to wake up. Like my dreams were better than when I was awake. I don’t think there’s a word for that.”

 

Maki nodded, slowly and deliberately, but she seemed satisfied with the answer. There was one important detail that had yet to be touched upon, though, and both girls knew it. “Then, what exactly did you dream about?”

 

Before her moment of clarity two nights ago, Umi had memorized the details (or more precisely, the frustrating lack thereof) of her recurring dreams to answer without hesitation. “Every time, I was in some sort of springtime setting. It might have been a field or a meadow of some sort, but I couldn’t say for sure. There weren’t enough details that I could tell for sure, but I was pretty sure that I had never actually been there. There really wasn’t much for me to latch onto, just that the sky was so clear and that the weather was always beautiful.

 

“The strangest part is that it all felt very familiar, I think. It doesn’t make much sense, does it? To see a place that I’ve never been to, yet feel so comfortable there…” Umi trailed off, shaking her head. “Especially since it was all such a blur after I woke up.”

 

Her recounting of the past year’s events stirred up vivid details of the un-prettiness of it all, and she was so busy wallowing in the feeling that she didn’t hear the rhythmic, rapid tapping of Maki’s pen for several moments. Looking up, Umi was greeted with that very sight, and she wasn’t sure whether her friend had written all of that down or not. She opened her mouth just as Maki broke her quiet spell, her head shifting back up to attention. “So, you still can’t recall anything?”

 

Umi picked up her half-eaten sandwich and waved off the question in succession. “No, two nights ago I had the same dream, but that time I could remember everything. I was so excited to have finally remembered, and I wanted to do _something_ with it, so those lyrics are the result. I wrote them that same night.”

 

Maki nodded, her eyes wide with a sudden realization. “So that’s why you called me at three in the morning.”

 

“Sorry about that. I thought it was a good idea at the time.” Umi chuckled, rubbing the back of her head. “Do you want to know the rest of the details?” She gestured to Maki’s notebook, but the pianist shook her head.

 

“You’ve given me a lot to work with already.” Umi jumped when she felt something brush against her free hand, and she looked down to see Maki’s hand on top of hers, a rare gesture from the usually hands-off redhead. “You didn’t have to tell me all that, either. Some of it probably wasn’t easy to say.”

 

Umi smiled, a half-amused and half-touched smile. “It’s fine. I’ve had a long time to think about these things. Really, I should be the one thanking you.”

 

“Why?”

 

“For listening to all of that.” Umi turned her hand over to give Maki’s a quick squeeze before withdrawing. She idly noted that Maki’s cheeks had started to redden.

 

“It’s all for the song, isn’t it?” Maki shut her notebook and slid her pen into the rings on the left side, a snug fit. She stood up after throwing it into her bag, confirming the time with a quick glance at her phone. She turned around to leave, and Umi thought she was going to end the conversation on that unconventional note, but she looked back after a moment, the beginnings of a smile on her face.

 

“I’ll visit you at your room if you cook for me. We can write the song faster that way, too.”

 

“You will?” A thought occurred in Umi’s mind: yesterday, and who Maki would blame if her grades slipped. Was this all part of the plan?

 

“Sure. Anyone would feel bad after hearing what college has been like for you.”

 

...Or maybe Umi had unwittingly played the pity card, after all. She sighed, and after following Maki’s retreating figure until it disappeared into the constant bustle of students, she looked back to her sandwich. She was surely going to finish it this time.

 

Maki hadn’t said _when_ she would visit, but Umi suspected that she wouldn’t have to wait that long.

 

\------------------------------

 

Two days passed. Umi kept checking her phone in the middle of class (and got some passing comments from Marika about it) but hadn’t heard from Maki since then.

 

Then, Friday afternoon, she was at her desk, getting nowhere with her final draft, when she heard an entirely alien sound: three knocks on her door.

 

She approached it cautiously, creaking it open with the chain lock still in place, but she relaxed upon seeing who it was.

 

Umi couldn’t tell if Maki seemed impatient or if that was just her usual expression.“I’ve been busy studying,” was the blunt reply to Umi’s unspoken question as she opened the door all the way. The blue-haired girl could only watch as Maki’s bag was tossed unceremoniously onto the bed as if it was her own. “I’ve also given some thought to how I want this to sound.” At this, she brandished a well-worn, well-folded paper from her coat pocket that Umi instantly recognized. The paper of lyrics was offered to her, and she took it, unfolding it so she could see Maki’s progress.

 

Her mouth creased thoughtfully as her eyes scanned the paper. It was now decorated with scribbles, half-written sentences, and crossed-out words along its outer edges. One word showed up more any other, however, and it naturally caught her attention. “Jazz?” Curiously, she looked back to Maki for an explanation.

 

The redhead had her attention elsewhere; her coat now removed, she hung it on the nearby rack before turning to address Umi. “I thought your lyrics might be suited to a more natural sound, like something that uses real instruments instead of a computer.”

 

“We’ve never done a song like that.” Umi flipped through the catalog of μ’s songs in her head, but she was unable to find a counterexample. “What instruments were you thinking of using?”

 

“Just the usual.” When this was met with a blank stare from Umi, Maki looked at her incredulously. “You haven’t listened to jazz before?”

 

Umi shook her head. Maki seemed surprised, but any potential judgmental comments were passed up in favor of a quick rundown. “A small jazz arrangement would include drums, a bass, a piano, and maybe a trumpet. I think that’s all we would need.”

 

“I see.” Umi nodded slowly, surprised that Maki had neglected to write that down on the paper even though she seemed confident about the instrumentation. “Where would we get those? No one we know can play instruments. Except you, of course,” she quickly added after she saw Maki’s expression start to turn sour.

 

“Um.” Maki averted her eyes. “I haven’t gotten that far yet. Anyways,” she turned away, clearly wanting to change the subject, “you don’t have any idea what this might sound like, right? Since you’ve never listened to jazz before.”

 

“No, I guess I don’t.”

 

“Then you’re lucky I have this.” She whirled around to face Umi, now holding a pair of earbuds connected to her smartphone. Both of them were pushed into Umi’s hands. “I have a playlist of jazz songs on there. It’s about 250 songs, which should be more than enough for you to get acquainted with the genre.”

 

Umi looked down to see that Maki’s phone was already unlocked and open to the music app. She touched the playlist labeled “Jazz” and began to scroll through the selection there. Unsurprisingly, she didn’t recognize any of the titles or artists that she passed by. “Where did you find all of this?”

 

“My parents have a collection of jazz CDs at our summer home. They showed it to me, thinking I would like it, and I did. So I burned my favorites to my computer and I can put them on my phone from there.” She gestured towards her smartphone.

 

“Your favorites?” Meaning, this wasn’t even the entire collection?

 

Maki nodded. “My parents mostly like the classics, but I wanted to find more on my own, so that playlist is a mix of classic and contemporary jazz.”

 

Umi was still having trouble digesting the “favorites” part. She didn’t think that she had time to listen to 250 (or more) songs before the Christmas break deadline.

 

“...I think I have a speaker somewhere,” she managed. “We’ll listen to it while I make dinner.” At this, she walked a few steps to her desk and opened a drawer, hoping she had thrown it in there by chance. Luckily, she had, and she victoriously pulled out the handheld speaker along with an auxiliary cord.

 

“Oh, what are you making?” Maki seemed excited; it was only apparent in the way that her eyes lit up.

  
“I only know how to cook easy things…” Umi went over the ingredients she probably had in the kitchen. “Are you okay with curry?”

 

Maki made a face. “Is that easy?”

 

“It is to me.”

 

The redhead considered it for a moment before shrugging. “Curry’s fine. Guess I’ll study over here.” She muttered the last part mostly to herself, her sights on the couch and coffee table that comprised most of the modest living room.

 

While she did so, Umi stepped towards her kitchen, unlocking Maki’s phone to prepare her jazz playlist. As she did so, however, a notification popped up on screen: a new message. She looked at the sender, but there was a group name where it should have been. Her heart caught in her throat as she realized it was a message from the μ’s group chat, still active after all of these years.

 

Not that she would know.

 

And yet, she was now given an opportunity to peek in on what she had been distanced from. A quick glance confirmed that Maki was already absorbed in her studying on the couch, her back to Umi. It wouldn’t hurt, would it? Maki would never know that she had looked through all of their messages…

 

“Ouch!” She hadn’t been paying full attention to where she was going until her foot slammed into one of the wall’s corners. Realizing that she had reached the threshold to her kitchen, the pain in her stubbed toe quickly took precedence in her mind and she limped the rest of the way to the pantry, muttering curses under her breath.

 

As the pain subsided and her mind refocused on the matter at hand, she started to have second thoughts. Even if it was a group chat, reading the messages through Maki’s phone would be an invasion of privacy. The offense was even more heinous if she considered the fact that Umi could easily access the messages through her own phone, since she was a member of the group chat as well. Looking at them through Maki’s phone was plain _rude_ when she took that into account.

 

Umi sighed, ashamed at herself for considering such a thing just after Maki had entrusted her with her phone. Suppressing any other traitorous desires, she put the phone, speaker, and necessary cords down on the small area next to the stove before making her way to the pantry.

 

\----------------------------------

 

“What song is this, Maki?”

 

She had set the speaker to be loud enough for both of them to hear, an easy task since the kitchen was adjacent to the living room and was accessible from said room, but Maki still took several moments to respond.

 

The lone couch faced away from the kitchen, so Maki had to turn around to address Umi. “‘Moanin’’ by Art Blakely and the Jazz Messengers.”

 

“What?”

 

Umi turned away from her pot of curry to meet Maki’s exasperated glare. “Do I have to repeat all of that?”

 

“I guess I’ll just look at it…” She put down her wooden spoon to reach for Maki’s smartphone, and she saw that the song information matched up with what she had said. The sound was rather new to Umi, with a distinct drumbeat, a walking bassline, and a piano player who didn’t seem to care what he played outside of the main riff. Currently, the trumpet was up on a solo. “You want our song to sound like this?”

 

“Not necessarily.” Maki was facing away from her again. “This song uses all of the instruments I was talking about, but I want it to sound more modern than this.”

 

Umi nodded, even though Maki couldn’t hear her, but she didn’t have anything to add. She didn’t know what “more modern” really meant in relation to this sound, after all.

 

She picked up her wooden spoon and went back to stirring her concoction, which would eventually become curry. The song went on, the trumpet solo gave way to a piano solo. When Maki spoke up again, it was clear that she had become distracted.

 

“You should join the group chat.”

 

Umi stopped stirring the pot. She glanced over at her friend, but Maki wasn’t looking at her like she had expected. She continued stirring, but at a slower pace. “I’m still in it.”

 

“It’s like you aren’t, since you never say anything.” There wasn’t any instigation in Maki’s voice. She said the words matter-of-factly, the way she always talked. She had every right to, of course: everything she said was true.

 

The jazz playing on the speaker, now on a different song, seemed to drown in the silence that followed. Umi put the lid on top of the pot to let the curry simmer, and she walked over to the couch. It was crowded with Maki’s study materials where the redhead wasn’t sitting, but she gathered them up and moved them to the coffee table so Umi could sit. She did so, and she wondered for a moment longer if she should defend herself.

 

She decided against it. “I turned off notifications for our group chat, so I don’t see whenever it’s active.”

 

She looked over to Maki for a reaction, who looked as if she was about to ask why, but she took a different approach. “They worry, you know. About you.”

 

“Ah.” Umi focused on the floor. “I can’t blame them.”

 

“Nico was wondering if you died.”

 

“What?” She looked over, disbelieving, but Maki’s face was expressionless as usual. She couldn’t reconcile those ridiculous words with their deadpan delivery, so she did the only thing she could do: she laughed. It started as a short giggle, but she couldn’t contain herself, and it escalated into full-on laughter, her eyes tearing up when she was unable to calm herself down. Thankfully, she saw out of the corner of her eye that Maki shared her amusement, although her laughter was much more contained. Either that, or the feeling was simply contagious.

 

“I wonder if she knows how ridiculous that sounds,” Umi managed after the laughter died down. “Just because I haven’t been answering for a while…”

 

“You know how she is. She’s just as worried as the rest of them. The rest of us, I should say.” Maki looked away, the smile from moments before still lingering on her face.

 

“You have every right to be,” Umi admitted. “It’s just that… I don’t know if I’m ready yet.”

 

She rubbed the back of her head, fully expecting Maki to press the issue, but her junior remained silent. They sat there for a moment, and Umi wasn’t sure whether to keep going or to drop the subject, but Maki beat her to it when she turned towards the kitchen. “I think the curry’s ready.”

 

“Ah. You’re right.” She got up and walked the few steps back towards the kitchen, the jazz music getting louder again. Inwardly, she breathed a sigh of relief that Maki wasn’t so pushy.

 

She thought that she was starting to like this genre, this jazz.

 

\--------------------------------------

 

The subject of μ’s didn’t come up again for the rest of the night. Dinner went rather smoothly, in part because the conversation had shifted back to easier topics: namely, school and the constant stress of upcoming finals.

 

It was dark when they finished, and Maki wasted no time in leaving. “I promised my roommates that I’d do homework with them,” she explained. “Thanks for dinner. I’ll try to stop by again before Christmas break.”

 

Umi opened the door for her, taking Maki’s dark grey coat and black scarf off of the rack. “Come by anytime.”

 

Maki nodded, taking her clothes from Umi’s outstretched hand, and then she was on her way. Umi shut the door after she was out of sight. She was alone once again.

 

Her own smartphone had been laying dormant on her desk while Maki was there, but now, she picked it up, going right to her “Notifications” tab in her settings. Maki’s advice to her echoed in her mind.

 

It didn’t convince her enough. After one more moment of consideration, she switched off her phone, shaking her head. She wondered when she would be ready.

 

In the meantime, she had taken note of the highlights from Maki’s jazz playlist. She knew what her homework would be for the next few days… along with her actual assignments, of course. One of those things took precedence over the other, though.


	3. Comfort in the Orchestration

_“And she said, ‘What are you doing here?_

_The moment I have long since feared_

_Oh, I’m not the girl you left behind_

_She’s been gone for quite some time.’”_

_The Reign of Kindo - “City Lights & Traffic Sounds”_

* * *

 

 

Umi drummed her fingers on the countertop, the humming of her espresso machine sounding strangely musical to her at the moment. Its presence in her apartment was the result of a sleep-deprived impulse and the surplus of money that she didn’t really know what to do with.

 

She had been working for a few months at the library, and outside of the extra food that she now found within her budget, she had yet to make any large purchases with her paychecks.

 

Then one afternoon at the supermarket, she saw it: a personal espresso maker. Stainless steel, it advertised high-quality brews at a reasonable price. Normally, Umi’s eyes would have bulged at what they called “reasonable,” but a quick glance at her wallet made her realize that it was well-within reach.

 

Although she drew more than one curious (or was it pitying?) glance on the train ride back to her apartment, it was well worth it after she plugged it in and thought about all the time she’d save now that she wouldn’t have to make the ten-minute trek to the mediocre coffeeshop on campus every time she needed her caffeine fix. With finals only a week away, her caffeine fix had increased by the day; she needed stronger doses with increasing frequency. The espresso machine fixed both of these problems.

 

She watched the last few drops plink into her cerulean coffee cup, then grabbed it along with her all-in-one creamer and brought both items back to her desk. She set them down on their respective coasters and turned her attention to her computer screen.

 

Three papers down, one to go. If she finished this last one early, heavy revisions notwithstanding, she had almost an entire week to focus on the song. She had more than simply lyrics to consider now that Maki had given her an additional songwriting task, busy as the redhead was with finals herself.

 

* * *

 

 

_“This isn’t super important to the song or anything, but is there a reason that all of the lyrics are in English?_

_The question had been posed by Maki about a week prior, one morning over breakfast. She had spent the night after hearing about Umi’s new espresso machine and wanted to try it out herself. This entailed heavy use of said machine well into the night. Umi had almost run out of coffee grounds and was relieved when Maki finally decided to call it a night._

_  
“I just wanted to try something new,” Umi answered. “We’ve also been studying a lot of Western poets in my classes, and I think English can be a very poetic language, hard as it is.”_

_Maki nodded as she gathered some scrambled eggs on her spoon. “English or Japanese, it’s fine, I just hope you’re ready to sing it.”_

_Umi chuckled nervously. “I wonder about that.”_

_They ate in silence for a few minutes._

_“How confident are you in your music theory?” Maki asked._

_The blue-haired girl looked up from her breakfast, mulling over her experience for a moment. “Not very. I have a guitar at home that I used when I wanted to experiment with vocal melodies, but I just played and sang by ear.”_

_Maki raised a forkful of scrambled eggs to her mouth. “Why didn’t you mention that when you were talking about musical experience?”_

_“I wouldn’t really consider that ‘playing an instrument.’”_

_“I would. Anyway,” she continued in between chews, “that’s a start. Do you want to help me write the song?” she asked with her mouth still full._

_“I’m much more comfortable letting you handle it.” Umi brushed aside the possibility with a wave of her hand. “Songwriting is far too intricate for me.”_

_“It would just be the basics. Chord structures of the verses and choruses, that kind of thing.”_

_Umi blinked. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”_

_“Trust me, it’s easy.” Now Maki picked up her glass of orange juice and sipped it. “I was thinking about what you said last week, and how personal these lyrics are. I think if you can put something coherent together, it would definitely come across as_ your _song. I’m still going to be in charge of the final arrangement, of course, but the final arrangement might take a completely different path depending on what the initial chords sound like.”_

_“But what about the jazz angle you wanted to take?”_

_“What about it?” Maki looked at her curiously. “I want to keep it, of course.”_

 

_“You think I’m qualified to write a jazz piece?” Umi asked, incredulous. Her fork dug into her fluffy scrambled eggs with a little more force than necessary._

_“Like I said, it’s just the basics. If we’re just talking about song structure, a lot of contemporary pieces are going to follow the same formula, regardless of genre.”_

 

_Umi processed this for a moment, weighing the redhead’s statement against the complex and often confusing arrangements that many of the jazz pieces she’d heard recently. She picked up her orange juice absently, swirling it back and forth slightly so it wouldn’t spill. It didn’t give her a proper answer to Maki’s proposition like she’d hoped._

_“If I agreed, you would still handle the… important parts of it, right?”_

_Maki laughed, although it was restrained due to the eggs that she had just taken a bite of. “I don’t know what you mean. Figuring out a chord structure is just as important as embellishing and tweaking those chords. You can’t have the second one without the first.”_

_“I suppose so…” Umi sighed._

_“I know you can do it,” Maki assured her. She smiled, and Umi wondered in the back of her mind when her junior had become this sincere. “Did you bring your guitar from home? I haven’t seen it anywhere.” She gave Umi’s apartment a cursory once-over._

_“No, I left it at home. There wasn’t really any reason for me to bring it since we aren’t writing songs any more.” Umi gathered her eating utensils and stood up to put them in the sink, before she realized her mistake and added: “Not until this one, I mean.”_

_“I have one in my room that I haven’t used much. You can have it.”_

_“Are you sure? I still have some extra money from my job that I can use…”_

_“Really, it’s fine. I bought it as a substitute for the piano, but I found out I don’t even have time for the guitar either.” Maki scooped up the last bit of eggs on her plate and got up to join Umi at the sink. “There are also some online music lessons that I can link you to. They just teach you some easy guitar chords and how to work your way around the first few frets of the fretboard.” The confusion must have been apparent on Umi’s face, because Maki added hastily: “Don’t worry, it’ll make sense once you get started.”_

_“That sounds like a lot of work.” Umi turned on the sink and offered Maki her hand, at which her junior gave her the plate and utensils. “Are you sure it would save time for me to learn all of this and then write the song? By the time I’m done figuring out the basics, you could have finished already.”_

_“Even if it doesn’t save time, I’m just your helper, remember? I don’t want to make something that’s different than what you imagined.” Maki walked back to the table and picked up her glass of orange juice, still half-full. “We might be able to avoid that if you have an idea of how you want it to sound. Besides,” she downed a portion of her juice before continuing, “you’ve been a part of the songwriting process for years already. You might know more than you think.”_

_Umi didn’t respond immediately. She scrubbed her plate with a wet sponge, thinking about what she would have to sacrifice to realistically write a decent song in two weeks. She grimaced as she subsequently realized that sleep would probably be the first thing to go, as usual. Still, Maki’s points were valid and, frankly, somewhat empowering. This really_ was _her song, after all._

_“Okay. I’ll do it.”_

_Maki smiled, as if she had never considered the possibility of Umi declining. “Great. When do you want me to drop off my guitar?”_

 

* * *

 

 

Umi glanced at the Martin sitting on its stand, which Maki had also provided. Its design wasn’t very distinct, cherry wood with a light tan finish (according to Maki, at least), but after playing a few chords and attempting to compare its sound with the old Yamaha she had at home, she had innocently looked up the price range of these guitars. She had promptly slammed her laptop screen shut after seeing the four-figure guitars on the Martin website and handled the delicate and expensive instrument with significantly more care afterwards. Maki hadn’t even mentioned how valuable the guitar that she “lent” to Umi was, although the blue-haired girl suspected that she might not have been aware of its price herself.

 

Part of her wanted to buy a guitar bag for it, so that it wouldn’t be sitting out and exposed to the elements of her apartment. She also wanted to buy a large, airtight vault and seal it in, but that would defeat the purpose of Maki lending her the guitar in the first place, so she had to settle with washing her hands before and after playing it.

 

Whether it was through her allegedly misplaced confidence or sheer luck, Maki had been right: Umi’s past guitar experience carried her through the online lessons. She picked up on the open chords quickly, and knew how to hold her hand on the fretboard so that her fingers wouldn’t unnecessarily block other strings. The lower action was easier on her fingers and allowed for longer playing sessions which, she hated to admit, _did_ have the tendency to cut into her studying time.

 

The music theory aspect wasn’t as easy for her to grasp, until help came in the form of an extremely useful text that Maki had sent her shortly after lending her the Martin:

 

**_Umi:_ ** _I’m having trouble with identifying chords in the songs, and when and why they change._

**_Maki:_ ** _hmm_

**_Maki:_ ** _do you remember when you used to count steps during practice?_

**_Umi:_ ** _Yes, what about it?_

**_Maki:_ ** _it’s like that_

**_Maki:_ ** _Sometimes you only count to three, sometimes you count to six, but mostly you just count to four_

**_Maki:_ ** _i’m sure you already knew that, though_

**_Umi:_ ** _Ah. It’s really that simple?_

**_Maki:_ ** _yeah_

**_Maki:_ ** _your chord changes are usually at the beginning of each measure, so each time you start over at 1_

**_Maki:_ ** _not always_

**_Maki:_ ** _but most of the time_

**_Umi:_ ** _Wow. Thank you!_

To her dismay, Umi had found that jazz was one of the more difficult genres to differentiate chords. The piano (and guitar, on occasion) was often playing some ridiculous-sounding variant that she couldn’t replicate on her own. She then tuned into the bassline, which proved to be no help either, due to its constant walking all over the fretboard. She had sent Maki yet another worried text on the matter, and her junior had simply responded:

 

**_Maki:_ ** _listen to our old songs, a lot of them are pretty straightforward_

She had been right. The only obstacle left was to combine the two, somehow. Maki’s advice to stick to basic chords was rooted firmly in her mind, but at present, she only had a week before Christmas vacation to write out even the simplest of chords. It was already a miracle that she had gotten through all the lessons so quickly; now Umi would need another miracle to churn something out that she’d be satisfied with. None of this even considered the larger problem that loomed over her at the moment, of course:

 

“I’m seriously going to write a song during finals?” She posed the question to an empty apartment and sighed, since she already knew the answer.

 

On the bright side, Maki’s finals stretched all the way until that Friday, while Umi’s ended three days prior, that Tuesday. She had three extra days to scrape something together, before sending the redhead back home to Akihabara with her rough outline of a song in hand.

 

On the not-so-bright side, the deadline for Umi’s final paper was less than 48 hours away, and she had already known that her Keats analysis wouldn’t be completed until the last minute. It was technically due Tuesday, but she wanted Satoshi to look over it before she turned it in. He had the final say in her grade, after all. She spared one final glance at the cherry Martin before pushing it out of her field of vision and refocusing on her screen. The song could wait, but Keats couldn’t.

 

* * *

 

 

Umi couldn’t stifle her yawns during the trek to Satoshi’s office. It was still well before noon, but she was already thinking about the next time that she could sleep. The three hours that she had managed to sneak in the night before weren’t much of a help, as a brief glance in the mirror had confirmed the presence of dark circles under her eyes, heavy with a consistent lack of sleep.

 

Still, she wanted to believe that it was worth it; she had finished her radically revised analysis at approximately 5:30 that night (or was it morning?) and even snuck in a half hour of songwriting before retiring. Though her paper was written to the soundtrack of jazz (Hiromi Uehara, Thelonious Monk, and Bill Evans had particularly clicked with her that night) and with considerably more effort, Umi couldn’t help but wonder if this would reflect in her final grade.

 

She climbed the stone steps to Satoshi’s office, thankful that he was only on the second floor of the Literature Building. Another student sat on the ground next to his door, and walking closer, Umi’s face lit up with recognition. Even though her face was turned away from Umi, her short black hair and matching bag, adorned with that signature μ’s button, still gave her identity away.

 

“Hello, Marika-san.” She greeted her fellow second-year, who didn’t respond. Umi raised an eyebrow and called to her again. This time, the other girl stirred and turned to face Umi with a soft groan.

 

“Hmmm… what is it?” Marika answered groggily, one eye opening to look at Umi while she rubbed the other. “Sonoda-san? How long have I been out?”

 

“I don’t know, I just got here.”

 

“Did you see anyone come out of Satoshi-san’s office?” Marika brought her arms over her head in a long stretch.

 

“No. How long have you been waiting?” Umi stepped closer to her classmate, debating whether to join Marika on the ground or not. She decided against it.

 

“Not sure. There was someone in there when I showed up, so I decided to sit down and wait. Guess I dozed off.”

 

Umi sized up the concrete beneath them and the stucco that comprised the corresponding wall, mentally weighing their comfort factor. “Are you sleeping well? Finals probably aren’t easy for you, either.”

 

The other girl chuckled. “When are finals ever easy? I’ve been ditching club meetings for the last week or so to cram, but that might not even be enough. To answer your question, though: no, I’m not.” She flashed Umi a tired grin. “It looks like you’re in the same boat.”

 

Umi’s hand instinctively rose to cover her face. She rubbed at the area under her eyes with her thumb and index finger. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I was up late last night finishing my paper.”

 

“Ooh, you always write the best papers the night before they’re due.” Umi couldn’t tell if her classmate was joking, but she didn’t get a chance to ask. “Did you end up getting help from Satoshi-san?”

 

“I did,” Umi nodded.

 

“Did you take his advice? Can I see?” She stuck her hand out.

 

“Sure.” Knowing Marika wouldn’t take no for an answer, Umi took her bag off of her shoulders to search for her paper, but at that moment the door opened. A student walked out and called his thanks over his shoulder, and shortly after their T.A. stuck his head out of the door.

 

“Who’s next? Nikaido-san, Sonoda-san?” He nodded his head at each of the girls in turn. Marika lept to her feet.

 

“Sorry.” She glanced apologetically at Umi. “I’m sure you did great, though!”

 

“You can both come in, if you want. I didn’t realize it would be so cold out here.” Satoshi looked out across the campus, rubbing his shoulders with each arm.

 

 _It’s the middle of December, though…_ “Um…” The blue-haired girl exchanged a glance with Marika, who shrugged. “Pardon me, then.”

 

“Maybe you can give me feedback, too.” Marika jabbed her lightly with an elbow. Umi resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

 

“I don’t think I’m qualified to do so.” She closed the door behind them and began to remove her windbreaker.

 

* * *

 

 

Whether it was due to lack of sleep, nerves, or both, Umi tuned out the discussion about Marika’s paper to focus on her own. She flipped through the eight pages that she had churned out last night, and her mounting unease grew with each paragraph she scanned. They had seemed coherent, convincing even, while she was writing them, but now she fixated on each awkwardly worded sentence, each argument that could be misread as forced. There were still more than 24 hours before the final deadline, but she didn’t know if she could handle another revision.

 

Sweat was just starting to form in tiny beads on her forehead when she heard a nearby chair clatter. She looked up to see Marika already on her feet, talking in a positive-sounding tone to their T.A. The specifics of the conversation eluded her. Umi shook her head rapidly.

 

“... thanks! I feel a lot better about my paper now.”

 

“Of course, Nikaido-san. That’s what I’m here for.” Satoshi nodded at Umi’s classmate encouragingly.

 

Marika caught Umi looking at her on her way out and flashed her a thumbs-up, with a grin to accompany it. “Good luck.”

 

Umi could only respond with a quick nod of her own. Well-meaning as it was, Marika’s gesture did little to quell her churning stomach. Umi remembered vaguely that she hadn’t eaten since late last night.

 

“So, Sonoda-san. I do hope that you took my advice to heart.” Satoshi sat at his desk, hands neatly folded together. Umi swallowed her unease and nodded while making her way to the chair opposite her T.A. Wordlessly she handed him her revised paper.

 

He started to read through it, adopting the intense glare that he usually reserved for papers as important as this one. It didn’t take long for Umi to begin to fidget; his lack of immediate feedback and that stare did little to reassure her. She rubbed her hands together and stared at the floor.

 

“Sonoda-san.” Even Satoshi’s tone lacked any hints about the quality of her paper.

 

“Is it better?” She tried, folding and unfolding her hands in her lap. “I tried a different approach this time around.”

 

“You certainly did! And with resounding success, I must say!” Finally, a wide and earnest smile broke out on her teaching assistant’s face, as he began to scrawl in the margins of her paper. “Right now I can’t read your paper extremely closely, of course, but I can already tell that your analysis is so much more impassioned and cohesive. I’ve seen many writers that veer off-topic or even start to ramble about hard-impact topics, but I’ve yet to see any of that here.”

 

“Th-thank you,” Umi managed, although she braced herself for any qualifying statements that were sure to follow. _I’m here for any and all feedback, after all…_   “Do you have any suggestions?”

 

Satoshi continued to scribble on her paper before answering. “Nothing major that I can see. Just some spots where I think you can be more clear, but those aren’t going to break your grade. If I may ask,” he continued, smiling, “is there any particular reason that you decided to take the approach that you did? Your analysis is very… interesting, at first glance.”

 

Umi rubbed the back of her neck self-consciously. “I guess I just felt more inspired this time around?”

 

He regarded her for a moment, then broke out into a chuckle. “I’ll take your word for it. Not everyone is comfortable with sharing their Muse, especially younger writers.”

 

She couldn’t help but smile upon hearing this; even though her teaching assistant meant something else, the word meant a lot more to her than he realized.

 

“I shouldn’t keep you for too long now.” Satoshi handed Umi her paper back, and she accepted it.

 

“Yes, thank you.” She stood up to leave, and was almost at the door when Satoshi addressed he again.

 

“Sonoda-san.”

 

“Yes?” Umi turned around to see him sporting an earnest smile.

 

“A paper like that one is more along the lines of what I expected from you. I’m sure this is only the beginning for you.”

 

 _Again, he doesn’t really know what he’s saying…_ Still, she accepted the compliment. “I hope so, as well.” 

 

* * *

 

 

Umi was surprised to see Marika waiting for her outside Satoshi’s office.

 

“You’re going back to your apartment, right?” The black-haired girl asked.

 

“Yes. Are you walking that way, too?”

 

Marika fell into step beside her as they descended the stairs. “Yeah, the closest bus stop is on the east side of campus.”

 

“Really? That’s still a fifteen-minute walk.”

 

“It’s alright, the exercise is probably good for me. Did your paper get ripped apart by Satoshi-san?”

 

“Surprisingly, he had many good things to say about it.” Umi shrugged her bag off of her shoulder and produced her paper from inside. “You can look over it if you still want to.”

 

Marika took it and, after a few minutes, let out a low whistle. “Looks like I was right! Writing a paper the night before is actually a great idea!”

 

“I think I’ve also been feeling more inspired as of late.” Umi said sheepishly.

 

“Why’s that?”

 

“I’ve been working on a song.”

 

Marika’s eyes lit up, and for a moment Umi wondered why she was admitting this to her. “No way! For real? Are you writing the music and lyrics?”

 

“I wrote the lyrics, but Maki is handling most of the music composition.”

 

She looked over, and Marika’s eyes were wide and disbelieving. Her expression reminded Umi of the fans that she used to run into, years ago. “Nishikino Maki?! The one and only composer of μ’s?!”

 

“I don’t think I’d be comfortable working with many other composers.”

 

“The process must be different, since you two don’t have much of a chance to talk any more…”

 

“Oh, we do. She’s a student here as well.”

 

“What?!” Marika practically shrieked, causing Umi to flinch. “There are _two_ idol celebrities on campus, and I didn’t even realize?!”

 

“Well, I didn’t reach out to her until recently…”

 

“Are you two planning a μ’s comeback?” Marika leaned in, uncomfortably close. Umi couldn’t blame her, though; this was probably incredible news for a fan like her.

 

“N-no, nothing like that. This song might just involve the two of us.”

 

“Aw…” Marika stepped back. “Still, it’s really awesome to hear that you’re writing music again.”

 

Seeing that her own paper now rested unread at Marika’s side, Umi reached out to take it back. “I shouldn’t have to say this, but please don’t tell anyone. This isn’t a μ’s project, so I’d hate to give people the wrong idea.”

 

Marika raised a stiff hand to her head in a mock salute. “Don’t you remember how good I am at keeping secrets?”

 

Umi had to smile at the silly gesture. “I’m just making sure. If you do, I’ll show you the finished product.”

 

The black-haired girl gasped, grinning widely. “I can’t wait!”

 

* * *

 

 

Five days later, Umi sat at her computer, guitar in hand. She strummed through a few chords over a vocal melody that she was debating whether to scrap or build upon.

 

After her last exam of the semester, she had promptly returned to her apartment. She had been thrilled to start working on her song without any deadlines or papers looming over her head, and she felt as though she had made significant progress over the last few days. It was still very crude, and sounded nothing like jazz, but it was a start.

 

Maki had texted her about half an hour prior, letting her know that her grades were more or less finalized, and that she was on her way to Umi’s apartment to show her personally. Currently, Umi checked her phone, but its screen did not indicate any new messages.

 

At that moment, however, three knocks sounded at her door again. Umi sighed with relief and placed the Martin back on its stand with great care. Then, she walked to the door and opened it to reveal a tired-looking Maki. A rolling suitcase stood an all four wheels at her side.

 

“I take it you’re glad to be done.” Umi stepped aside to let her junior in.

 

Maki’s steps were heavy, and her suitcase accompanied her through the doorway. Without so much as a glance at Umi, she walked straight to the couch and flopped down onto it. A long, quiet groan followed her covering both of her hands with her face.

 

Umi didn’t press Maki to talk, instead choosing to follow her to the couch and sit down next to her.

 

It didn’t take long for Maki to recover anyway. “I’m okay,” she clarified. “I’m just ready to sleep for a while.”

 

“I’ve been catching up for the last few days.”

 

“Lucky,” the redhead muttered. “How’s the song?”

 

“Good, actually.” Umi brightened a little. “I’ll show you the chords that I have so far when you’re ready.”

 

Maki nodded slowly, sinking even further into the couch. Umi couldn’t let her rest for too long, however, since she had a sneaking suspicion as to why Maki had walked all the way to her apartment.

 

“So, Maki. What are your final grades?”

 

“I got A’s in all of my classes,” she stated. Umi tried to ignore the twinge of jealousy. College was a different beast, but less so for some people.

 

“And what were your grades before we started writing the song?”

 

“They were still A’s.”

 

“So?” Umi pressed. Maki was being indirect again. “Does that mean they didn’t drop?”

 

“See for yourself.” Maki held out her phone for Umi to take. When she did, she saw that Maki had it open to a screenshot of her grades. A quick zoom-in revealed that they were, indeed, all A’s.

 

“Those are my grades from the beginning of the month,” Maki explained. “The next picture has my grades as of today. You can compare them yourself, so there’s no room for confusion.”

 

 _...Or she could just tell me,_ a rather snarky voice in Umi’s head whispered, but really, she didn’t mind all that much. She probably would have asked for confirmation either way. So she swiped to the right, and sure enough, Maki’s final grades for the semester were also A’s.

 

The percentages, however…

 

There was a notable pattern in Maki’s grades between then and now. A small, almost insignificant pattern, but a pattern nonetheless. She looked over to Maki for a sign of affirmation, and… was that a smile? “Maki… you… your…” She struggled to process the outcome, but this was reality.

 

“Yes?” Instead of helping, Maki continued to lead her on. She raised an eyebrow, almost teasingly.

 

“Your grades went down by less than one percent…” Umi finally succeeded in getting the words out, but her mind wasn’t quite there yet. She scrolled back and forth between the two screenshots, which only confirmed what she feared. “All of them.”

 

“That’s right.”

 

“So…”

 

Maki now sported a full-fledged smile - no, a _smirk_. “That was what we agreed on, right? I told you what would happen if my grades slipped. And they slipped.”

 

Umi opened her mouth, ready to mount her defense, and realized that she had none. Instead, she was forced to settle for a feeble: “But the difference is almost negligible…”

 

“A deal’s a deal.” Maki shrugged.

 

Umi could only nod, defeated, as she handed Maki her phone back. The redhead was exuding too much gusto for this to be an accident. She probably wouldn’t get confirmation from the con woman herself, but she had _definitely_ been played.

 

However, there wasn’t anything she could do about it now. She had agreed to Maki’s condition, after all, and she had gotten a song that they had made decent progress on together in return. Perhaps it _could_ be worth it in the end, but first Umi had to take into account the gravity of her friend’s request.

 

Speaking of which…

 

“What’s your request, then? You promised that you’d tell me now.” Admittedly, she had given some thought to Maki’s possible request during the past three weeks, but she hadn’t the slightest idea of where to start, in part because Maki hadn’t dropped so much as a hint of what it might have been. She gave up on the issue shortly after, but it still pestered her in the back of her mind every now and again. Now, even as it was about to be revealed, she was still clueless and, as a result, somewhat ready for anything. That’s what she liked to think, anyway.

 

“It’s easy. Come home for Christmas break.”

 

Scratch that. She was certainly _not_ ready for anything.

 

“We’re taking the train tomorrow morning. I’m already packed and ready to go.” At this, she nudged her suitcase with her left foot. So _that_ was why she had brought it to the apartment.

 

“What.”

 

* * *

 

 

 

In the end, any of Umi’s attempts at protesting (“I haven’t packed yet,” “I still need to clean the apartment,” “I wasn’t planning on going home,” etc.) were ineffective in consideration of the simple fact that this was Maki’s one request, which she had agreed to uphold no matter what.

 

And that was how Umi found herself on a Akihabara-bound train, a five-hour ride from the station near campus. Maki sat across from her, one headphone in her ear while the other hung limp and unused. She stared out the window, where the landscape was mostly bare and brown. Luckily, it hadn’t snowed for the past few days, so it was a clear, albeit cold, ride home.

 

“I feel like you tricked me.”

 

Maki turned away from the window upon hearing those words, taking the single headphone out of her ear. Umi thought that she would have to repeat herself, but that immediately proved not to be the case.

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

Umi scratched at her chin with a thumb. “Actually, ‘tricked’ may not be the most fitting word. ‘Manipulated,’ perhaps?”

 

Maki raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond, so Umi continued.

 

“So far, most of the progress that’s been made on the song is my doing. I know you’ve given me a lot of pointers and you haven’t had much time to work with the chords I showed you, but…” She looked out the window, fearing she was coming off as selfish. It sounded less accusatory in her head, but it was too late to take it back. “I agreed to come home with you because your grades fell a little, but I thought I’d see more from you as a result.”

 

She risked a glance at Maki, which proved to be a mistake because she could not match her junior’s neutral yet intimidating stare. Maki remained silent just long enough for Umi to regret what she said.

 

“You agreed to lay out the chords. I didn’t force you.”

 

“I know, I know. It’s just… not what I agreed to in the first place.” She winced preemptively, expecting Maki to jump to her own defense.

 

 Her junior chewed on her lip, maintaining her stare. “Are you mad at me?”

 

“No! Not ‘mad,’ per se, just...” Failing to find a better word, Umi could only shrug.

 

“Well, you’re right, in a way.” A corner of the redhead’s mouth turned up in an almost indiscernible smile. “I wouldn’t say I tricked you, but this was my ulterior motive.” She motioned outside, indicating the moving train they currently sat in.

 

“Did you plan this whole thing?”

 

“Not exactly. No one could have predicted that you were writing a song.” Maki shut her eyes briefly and began to roll up her headphones, throwing them in her bag before turning back to Umi. “I wanted you to go home for break long before we started writing the song, so when you asked me for help, I thought it was the perfect opportunity. That way, if you agreed to do something in return after we made progress on the song, there was no way that you could turn me down. Turns out,” she gestured to their current situation with a sweep of her hands, “it worked. I thought that you might say no to coming home otherwise.”

 

“I see.” Umi had to admit that it was a decent plan.

 

“Don’t worry, I’m still going to keep my word,” Maki assured her. “While we’re on break, I can really focus on the song.”

 

“I wasn’t doubting that. I was only realizing that you just got everything you wanted.”

 

Maki didn’t need to confirm this, as both girls knew that she was right. She only smiled, teasingly, and Umi was compelled to return the gesture.

 

Maki had long since unraveled her headphones again, and both girls had been staring idly out the window for some time before Maki spoke up.

 

“It’s fun to write a song again.”

 

“It is, isn’t it?”  Early as they were into the process, Umi was already eager to hear the final product. “Oh,” she sat up a little straighter as the words reminded her of a question she had been meaning to ask, “did you figure out what we’re going to do about the instruments?”

 

Maki nodded. “I thought about it. One of my old piano teachers plays for a band. He isn’t that old and he hates classical music, so I always wondered what he was doing as a teacher. It was never anything serious, but they have some experience in the studio.” Her hand continued to dig through her bag until she pulled out their crumpled, wrinkled, almost-torn sheet of lyrics. “I wrote down his phone number here as a possible contact,” she added, unlocking her phone as she spoke.

 

To Umi, however, the idea seemed a little dubious. “He’d do that for you? For free?”

 

Maki stopped typing on her phone to look up at Umi. “Well, he might give me a discount, since I’m a former student.”

 

“Do they play jazz?”

 

After hesitating briefly, the redhead replied with a quiet “I don’t know.”

 

Umi frowned. Maki had said that she’d “thought about it,” but this came off as somewhat ill-prepared. “If they can’t or won’t play your arrangement, what then?”

 

“I know it isn’t the best plan,” Maki admitted. “I told you that one first because I didn’t think you’d like my backup.”

 

“Backup…?” A shadow crossed Umi’s face. “Do I want to know?”  


Maki shrugged, either unfazed or oblivious to Umi’s immediate air of disapproval. “You know there’s a backup now, so I might as well tell you.” She took a breath, glancing at their lyrics once more before refocusing. “We can also advertise that we need people to record an instrumental for us. For that to have a chance at working, we have to get the word out that we’re from μ’s, and that we’re looking to make another song.”

 

At this, Maki bit her lip, swaying her head from side to side. Umi could almost see the gears in her head turning, as if the plan sounded even more unlikely to succeed now that she had said it out loud. “We would advertise online, of course, but I was thinking that it would be even better to post and hand out flyers in Akihabara. I think μ’s might still have some traction there, so we’d have a higher chance of finding someone who’s interested.”

 

Umi sank into her seat, staring at Maki with wide golden eyes. “You’re right. I don’t like that plan at all. Even if we don’t get someone to agree, we’re drawing a lot of attention to ourselves.”

 

Her junior nodded. “That’s why it’s a backup. If people hear that we’re making another song, that will give them all sorts of ideas.”

 

“They might think that we’re getting back together.” Umi shuddered, not at the idea of being an idol again, but at the idea of being an idol _and_ a full-time college student.

 

“Exactly. Not all of μ’s is in touch right now. If that rumor spreads, it could really be a mess.”

 

Even though her own name was not mentioned specifically, Umi was clearly the target of that statement. She felt a stab of pain, and it was all she could do to manage a nod in response.

 

Fortunately for her, Maki did not seem intent on leveling any more accusations at her. “That’s why it’s only a backup plan. I’d rather have the musical arrangement done quietly.”

 

Umi nodded at this as well, and both girls fell silent. She turned her attention back towards the window, and saw Maki take out and unravel her headphones out of the corner of her eye.

 

Time passed, but Umi was unable to use the fleeting landscape to keep track. It was rather unchanging, after all: dormant rice fields, barren trees, and hardy, unappealing grasses and bushes consumed most of her field of vision. Maki speaking up again after some time hanging in that strange, fluid limbo brought her back to the present.

 

“I lied, by the way.”

 

Umi’s attention shifted back to her friend sitting across from her, and suddenly she became aware of the lazy pose that she had adopted while staring out the window. With considerable effort, she sat up fully in her seat, stifling a yawn. “Come again?” She hoped for further elaboration on Maki’s part.

 

“There’s one more condition that I have in exchange for writing the song with you.” Maki stared, unblinking, at her senior. It was somewhat intimidating.

 

This wasn’t very good news from Umi’s perspective. “We didn’t agree on that.” Her eyes narrowed.

 

“You’re right. Just consider it a…” at this, the redhead twisted a strand of her hair around a finger. Umi watched the familiar motion while her junior paused. “...a _natural_ extension from the first part.”

 

Umi tried, and failed, not to look unimpressed. “I think I know where this is going.”

 

“Then you get why, right?” Maki cracked a smile at her. “I got you to come home for three weeks, so I can’t let you just hide in your room while you’re there.”

 

“So, your second condition is for me to socialize?”

 

“With the other girls, yes. I think most of them are going to be home for Christmas, if they aren’t already.” Umi moved to respond, but Maki cut her off with a swift, single finger raised into the air between them. “Everyone wants you back. Even if you don’t want anything to do with them, don’t you think it’s about time you explained yourself?”

 

She was sure that Maki didn’t mean it that way. There was no way she could have _known_ , after all. Still, her words struck an immediate and entirely unwanted fear into Umi, who jerked forward, her mouth open and full of denials and protests, but they never formed into actual words. Instead, she remained frozen in that position, mouth agape and eyes wide, until she realized that she had misunderstood. “I, uh… Sorry,” she stammered, swallowing her overreaction. However, her near-outburst had its own effect on her friend sitting across from her.

 

Maki had leaned back considerably in her seat upon witnessing Umi’s unexpected reaction. “...I didn’t think you’d be that opposed to seeing everyone again, but if you are-”

 

“That’s not it.” Umi cut her off, and Maki shrank further away from her as she was interrupted. “I… You said that everyone wants me back?” She couldn’t explain herself. This wasn’t Maki’s problem, so it would be wrong to drag her into it.

 

“As far as I can tell.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

Maki didn’t respond right away. Instead, her eyes looked Umi up and down, sizing her up. The blue-haired girl squirmed, feeling as though she had asked the wrong question. “Do you think otherwise?”

 

Umi shifted her gaze outside the window again, as Maki’s stare was too intense to hold. “I don’t know what to think.” When she looked over to see Maki’s eyebrow raised in confusion, she clarified, “I haven’t seen or heard from anyone, since I don’t read our group chat. You would know all of those things, not me.”

 

She heard a hollow, repetitive sound coming from Maki’s side of the train car, and looked over to see the redhead’s foot tapping rapidly against the floor. Looking up, the other girl was visibly troubled in the way that her brow furrowed and her frown was longer than normal. She muttered, barely audible from where Umi sat, “I guess it’s better for me to tell you now.” She looked up, affixing Umi with that intense purple gaze. “This isn’t any of my business, so I’m not going to ask you any more than what you’re comfortable with.”

 

Umi motioned for her to continue with a hesitant nod.

 

“Whenever you come up in our chat, it’s about how you’ve disappeared and how much everyone misses you. Almost everyone agrees with that. The first couple times that it happened, I just thought that it was bad timing, but…” At this, her eyes flickered. She turned away; maybe she didn’t want to see Umi’s reaction?

 

“Honoka and Kotori never say anything about it. They just…” She hesitated again, and her next words were heavy and difficult. “They never talk about you.”

 

She expected it through and through, but the words still hit her like a ton of bricks. Through her stunned silence, she realized that Maki was still talking. She forced herself to pay attention. That statement still rung in her ears.

 

“...everyone noticed it, but we decided together that if something had happened, you three had to sort it out on your own.”

 

“I... “ Her own voice came out strained, close to cracking, and it surprised her how quickly her emotions threatened to spill over. She cleared her throat, composing herself. “I see.” It was all she could manage at the moment.

 

Maki’s next words were measured, careful. “So you haven’t heard from them recently.” She wasn’t seeking for affirmation: it was a statement with a frightening degree of finality.

 

“No, I haven’t.” Umi kept her eyes on the floor, trying to focus on how it rattled and shook with the train. “Are they going to be there?”

 

“Honoka probably will be. We’re trying to get Kotori to come home, too, but she said that she might have to stay in Tokyo over break.”

 

Umi’s eyes widened as she heard this. “Does everyone know that I’m coming back?”

 

“Not yet. What do you think about surprising them?” Again, the hints of a smile played across the redhead’s mouth. “You can tell them that you finally wanted to come home for a while. If we tell them the truth, it might sound like I forced you into it.”

 

Umi regarded her friend with suspicion. “You want me to lie?”

 

Maki shrugged. “More or less. We both know that you’re overdue for this, anyway.”

 

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready.”

 

Maki looked away from her to reach into her bag. She produced a small travel pillow and, wrapping it snug around her neck, leaned back, and half-closed her eyes.“You have about a day.”

 

Umi followed her friend’s lead, but since she neglected to bring a pillow of her own, she could only sink down into her seat with a sigh. “They’re meeting tomorrow?”

 

The redhead nodded. “Sometime in the afternoon. Everyone except Honoka and Kotori will be there, including us.”

 

This time, Umi was expecting that last part. “I hope it goes well…” Her voice was full of uncertainty.

 

“Everyone just wants to see you again. I’m sure there’s a lot for you to talk about.”

 

 _Maybe too much to talk about…_ Umi ignored the negative thought that sprung into her mind. “Where is everyone planning on meeting?”

 

“Nozomi’s apartment, I think. Everyone wants to sleep in, so we’ll probably go after lunch.” Maki herself certainly looked the part: her eyes had closed fully by now, her head tilted back since the pillow didn’t offer enough support.

 

Umi could agree with that sentiment, too. “I’m sure it will be in the chat.” She looked, absently, at the adjacent rows of seats up and down the train, noting the train’s other passengers, few as they were,

 

She looked back to Maki to see that the other girl was staring at her with one eye open. “Don’t say anything yet. It’s supposed to be a surprise.”

 

“I know, I know. I’m just going to read everyone’s messages.”

 

The redhead relaxed again. “I don’t have to make sure you’re going, do I? I’m not planning on  picking you up or calling you tomorrow.”

 

Umi responded with a light shake of her head. “ I really do want to go.” She looked down, and after a moment, added, “But I _am_ a little nervous.”

 

“Don’t be. They’re going to grill you, though.”

 

“That’s exactly it.” Umi sighed. “I’m going to be the center of attention, aren’t I?”

 

“You are.”

 

She shuddered. “There’s no way around that?”

 

Maki shifted onto her side so she faced the window. Her eyes remained closed, and Umi idly wondered if she should let her friend sleep. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

 _That’s the last thing you should tell someone who’s worrying…_ Umi didn’t voice her thoughts aloud, since Maki was already settling into her new sleeping position. She looked back out towards the window, where the tops of buildings started to appear above the horizon like old friends welcoming her home. She remembered that was exactly what was waiting for her, and the comparison made her look away from the window, full of uneasiness.

 

Akihabara was in sight, but they still had a while to go before they arrived. Maki had fallen asleep already, or at the very least, she was trying quite hard to do so, as indicated by her rhythmic breathing.

 

“She might be onto something,” Umi breathed to herself. Taking her friend’s lead, she looked through her bag, and, finding the object of interest, pulled her own pair of earphones from it. After they were comfortably in place, she plugged them into her smartphone and started up her own “Jazz” playlist. It was skeletal compared to the one Maki had shown her, but she had to start _some_ where.

 

The trumpets singing in her ears, she closed her eyes.

 

* * *

 

 

A hand shook her awake, followed by a voice, much too close to her ear.

 

“Umi. Umi, we’re here.”

 

“Nnnh…” she shrunk away from the invasive hand, grasping in vain at the holds of sleep.

 

“The train’s about to leave.”

 

“Mmh!”

 

Umi heard a sigh from above her. The hand that shook her shoulder now gripped it and pulled, dragging Umi all of a few inches away from the edge of the seat. Its other, intended effect was much more successful.

 

“Okay, okay! I’m awake!” With a tremendous effort, she cracked her eyes open, squinting immediately at the harsh white light that illuminated the train. She shifted onto her back and faced Maki fully, her right hand moving to shield her eyes from the light while her left reached for the earphones still in her ears, though they had long since stopped playing music. Her arms were still too unresponsive to do anything more complicated than allowing her earphones to hang down in front of her shirt, so she resigned them to that position. She couldn’t look up for fear of the light blinding her, and she noted that Maki’s suitcase stood next to her, the handle fully extended.

 

“Ugh…” she groaned. She happened to glance to her left, past Maki, and saw a few passengers waiting in line for the nearest door to free up. They seemed in no hurry to exit out into the station. “Wait, the train isn’t about to leave. It seems like it just got here.”

 

“It did, but I thought you’d wake up faster if I said that.” Maki took her hand off of Umi’s shoulder. It found its place on her hip, her other hand holding her smartphone which she now glanced towards. “The train _will_ leave if you keep lying around, though.”

 

Umi wanted to chastise her friend and her nonchalance towards lying, but now wasn’t the time for a morality lesson. Her eyes still heavy with sleep, she took hold of her bag and stood up unsteadily, her limbs aching for a stretch. She instead opted for a more modest rubbing of her eye, unable to stifle the yawn that followed. It was cut short as she caught sight of Maki’s back already turned to her, slowly retreating as the other girl started towards the exit.

 

“Hey, wait!” Clumsily, she slung her bag over one shoulder while gripping her suitcase with her other hand. She took off after her friend, her suitcase teetering on one wheel behind her. Luckily, the aisle was spacious enough that she didn’t have to push anyone else out of the way; she didn’t know if she would have had the audacity to do so, anyway.

 

Maki was waiting for her on the platform, her focus directed towards her smartphone. Umi glared at her as she finally caught up, having successfully navigated through the modest crowd of travelers. “Why did you leave me back there?”

 

“I didn’t want to give you a chance to go back to sleep.” The pianist gave Umi a quick glance before turning back to her phone. Its white light illuminated her face more so than the soft yellows of the train station.

 

Umi rolled her eyes. She had shaken off any traces of sleep from them in her rush to get off the train. “That was unnecessary.”

 

Maki ignored her. “Do you want a ride home? I’m going to ask my parents to send someone to pick me up.” She pointed at her phone.

 

“Your parents…?” Umi repeated, the word triggering a realization in her. Her eyes widened in horror. “Oh, no.”

 

Maki looked up again, questioning her silently with a raised eyebrow.

 

“I forgot to tell my parents that I’m coming home for Christmas.” Umi slapped her hand against her forehead, already berating herself for overlooking what should have been an obvious detail.

 

Maki’s eyes widened in a similar manner to Umi’s own, but her true reaction was betrayed by a short burst of laughter that escaped her mouth. She silenced it quickly, but not before Umi whirled to look at her, and by then, she couldn’t contain her amused smile.

 

“You didn’t?” She asked, in between giggles. Umi’s glare seemed to do little to discourage her laughter.

 

“What’s so funny?”

 

“Nothing.” Her laughter subsided, but the smile remained. “You should be fine. It’s not like they’re renting out your room or anything.”

 

Umi nodded silently. It must have been a little too unsure, because Maki’s smile faded. “They’re not, are they?”

 

“No, nothing like that. At least, I don’t think so,” she added.

 

“Then you’ll be fine.” Maki’s phone buzzed in her hand, but she ignored it to ask Umi, “So, do you want a ride or not?”

 

Umi considered it for a moment. She looked out at the sea of people, spilling from the train station out into the streets. “Thanks, but I’ll walk. My house is less than a mile from here.”

 

“Are you sure?” Her phone continued to buzz, but she still didn’t pick up.

 

Umi nodded. “It’s still pretty bright, and the streets look like they’re crowded.” She looked back to her friend, sporting a smile. “And it’s been awhile since I’ve been home.”

 

Maki bit her lip and shrugged. “If you say so. Call me if you change your mind.”

 

“I think I’ll be okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

Maki nodded, and Umi was surprised to see that her phone hadn’t gone to voicemail already. She picked it up and, with a final wave, took her suitcase in her other hand. Umi could hear snippets of the conversation, most likely with her chauffeur, as her voice started to blend in with the bustle of the crowd: “Yes, I’m at the station…”

 

She was soon indistinguishable from the rest of the station’s visitors. Though it was late afternoon and the crowd’s density would usually be at its highest, Maki’s decision to take a Sunday train home proved to be a wise one. Today, the train-users were more easygoing, less impatient, and most importantly, smaller in number. Umi grasped her suitcase’s handle with one hand and straightened out her windbreaker with her other, and she didn’t have to thread her way through the crowd as she stepped outside.

 

The evening chill was there to greet her, a harsh reminder that she had lacked the foresight to wear her beanie, which was currently stuffed in some corner of her suitcase. Past the reach of the tall buildings that surrounded her, the sky, already covered by a cloudy gray, was starting to darken.

 

Akihabara, a constantly evolving cultural center, stopped for no one, yet in a strange way, it seemed unchanged from when Umi had left two years ago. She had expected to be overwhelmed upon her arrival, having been away for so long, but the city lights and traffic sounds seemed to welcome her.

 

Umi smiled and set off for home. She wouldn’t have to walk far; she had already been home the moment she stepped off the train.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm lowkey mad that the scene with Umi and her T.A. doesn't have any real substance, but I wanted to finish this chapter more than anything else.


	4. Rhythm, Chord & Melody

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm not that good at replying to comments (it makes me nervous), but I will make an effort to change that from here on out. Although it may not seem like it right now, I read all of your comments and your support and feedback are all considered and, of course, greatly appreciated! Please don't be shy about leaving further comments and feedback in the future (like me), and hopefully you will actually get a reply this time around!

_“And you could see it in her eyes_

_She had run out of tears to cry._

_Now she turned and walked away_

_Seven years - gone to waste.”_

_The Reign of Kindo - “City Lights & Traffic Sounds”_

 

* * *

 

 

Raising an unsteady hand to the doorbell, Umi pressed it after several seconds of deliberating. She could hear the low chime echo somewhere inside her house, followed by a familiar “Coming!”

 

Her mother slid open the door, wearing an apron over her normal clothes. “Umi?!” She smiled widely and pulled her daughter into a rather fierce hug. “Welcome home! You didn’t tell us when you were coming back!”

 

“Sorry for dropping in so unexpectedly..” Umi gingerly returned the hug while she struggled to form the words around her mother’s grip.

 

“Not at all!” Releasing Umi, her mother held her at arm's length, beaming all the while. “Oh, why isn’t your father here?! He’ll be disappointed when he comes home and you’ve already settled in!”

 

“Where is Father?” Umi asked. It wasn’t like him to leave the dojo often, as far as she knew.

 

“Oh, but he’ll be back soon enough,” her mother muttered. Umi frowned. She had the feeling that her mother wasn’t entirely focused on her. “Now that you’re home, I’m cooking dinner for all of us! Once your father comes back, we’ll all eat and you can tell us how school has been!”

 

Umi silently nodded, but already her stomach began to knot with dread. How would she be able to spin her year and a half of college in a positive light? While her mother all but pushed her across the long hallway to her room, going on about how it was exactly as she left it and it was always there for her, Umi considered various angles in her head.

 

“I’ll leave you to unpack,” her mother said. “Dinner will be ready in half an hour!”

 

“Thanks.” Umi closed the door behind her and, once she heard her mother’s footsteps fade down the hallway, exhaled sharply. _I’ll just have to tell them that I’ve been focusing on my studies, and that the job I worked in over the summer was a good learning experience._ Of course, she didn’t plan on being a librarian for the rest of her life, but her parents would rather hear that explanation than _“I just wanted the money.”_ If she expressed anything resembling interest in such a career path, it would only cause needless worry for her parents; Umi was certain that the topic of the family dojo would be brought up at least once during dinner, and she, as the last heir, was expected to inherit it. That expectation did not change even after she left for college, and it was easiest for her to simply nod and go along with whatever they said.

 

“Just another reason I put off going home for so long…” Umi groaned aloud. Glancing over her shoulder to make sure no one had heard, she shook her head. Cleaning up her room took priority over agonizing about her future.

 

Flipping on the lightswitch on the adjacent wall (and breathing an inadvertent sigh when it proved to work), she set down her suitcase next to the door and quickly walked over to her bed.

 

Umi patted her bedsheets gently with an outstretched hand, although she tried to keep a good distance between herself and her own bed. It hadn’t seen use in more than a year, and she tried not to think about the little crawly creatures that could have made their homes in her sheets and frame in this time. So far, she had only succeeded in dislodging small puffs of dust from the covers, which gathered in the space above her bed so that a large cloud now hovered uncomfortably close to her face. Of course, Umi wasn’t going to stand for this. With some effort, she managed to force her window open, and it gave way with a somewhat concerning groan.

 

At this, she turned around and placed her hands on her hips. The dust that had settled on her bed was already a clear indicator, but she still surveyed her room to confirm it with her own eyes: everything was exactly how she had left it. She had never been partial to personalizing her room, and as such it contained little more than the bare necessities: a bed, a desk, and matching dressers and cabinets. A plain nightstand was situated next to her bed as well, and it was here that Umi walked. Three pictures, similar in composition from afar, were lined up side by side. She picked up the last one, unsettling a fair amount of dust in the process. She blew off the rest of the dust from the picture frame, waving it towards the general direction of her window.

 

Taking pictures alongside best friends was a graduation staple for any high-schooler, but it was Honoka who had first proposed the idea that they replicate the same pose for each of their graduation pictures. More accurately, each picture was an attempt to improve upon the previous one; in their first graduation picture, on their last day of elementary school, Honoka had bounded a good foot and a half in the air, leaving a surprised Umi and Kotori to stare on either side of her. Two years later, on the day of their middle school graduation, it was Honoka who remained grounded while Umi and Kotori jumped.

 

Their third and final attempt, taken just outside of the cherry-blossom laden entrance of Otonokizaka, was the only time they had gotten it right. It was the picture that Umi held in her hands now. Kotori, on the right, held her diploma with both  hands over her head. Honoka brandished her own in one hand and a flashed a peace sign with the other. And, of course, Umi herself on the left, grinning just as widely as her two closest friends. They beamed with all the pride, disbelief, and wistfulness that they had felt on that day, and in that fleeting moment, their feet left the ground in perfect sync.

 

When was the last time she had felt this happy? She couldn’t bear looking at the photo for much longer. Placing it face-down on the nightstand, she opened her phone to an unread text from Maki:

 

**_Maki_ ** _: if you still haven’t seen the chat, the plan is to meet up tomorrow after lunch_

**_Maki:_ ** _so around 1 or so_

“Oh, that’s right,” Umi said aloud. “I forgot to turn on notifications for our chat.”

 

**_Umi:_ ** _Thanks. I won’t be late._

 

**_Maki:_ ** _i’ll let you know when i’m outside your house_

**_Umi:_ ** _Is that really necessary?_

**_Maki:_ ** _it is_

**_Umi:_ ** _Fine._

She must have spaced out while staring at her old graduation pictures, because she had just started to gather her bedsheets when she heard her mother calling her downstairs for dinner. She supposed herself a decent cook, but upon opening the door to her room, she was met with the almost-forgotten and sorely missed scent of a true home-cooked meal with family.

 

Opening the door, she turned around to give her room one more once-over in the dying daylight. Her suitcase lay open, still packed with hastily folded clothes. It could wait, perhaps a day or two, she decided. Two weeks was a long time to be home, after all.

 

* * *

 

 

“Are you ready - Umi, what are you doing?”

 

The girl in question still lingered on the stairs, a good ten feet back from where Maki stood with her hand on the door handle.

 

“Um… Can I just have a moment, please?” Umi fiddled with a button on her coat, looking everywhere except at Maki. Her other hand slipped into her coat pocket and lingered on her crumpled sheet of lyrics. She had brought it along just in case inspiration struck while they were there, but more importantly to announce the status of the song to the rest of the girls. Hopefully, doing this now would clear up any potential misunderstandings.

 

Maki looked like she was about to roll her eyes. “We’re the last ones here, you know. Everyone’s waiting for me. And you, even though that’s a surprise.”

 

“That’s exactly why I’m nervous.” Umi sighed heavily. Her friends were behind that door, she didn’t doubt that. What she _did_ doubt was her chances of being greeted with warmth and positivity; she wasn’t denying that she probably didn’t deserve such friendliness, but she still wasn’t ready for the curious questions that would potentially be aimed at her. Especially if they had an idea of what had happened before she left for college…

 

The thought made her tense visibly. She hurriedly buttoned her coat and stuffed her hands into its pockets. “How about you go in first, and I’ll come in when I’m ready?” she tried.

 

It was a stupid idea and she knew it, but Umi still took an instinctive step back when Maki removed her hand from the door and strode over to her. She grabbed Umi’s arm before the older girl had time to react, and leaned in so Umi couldn’t help but meet Maki’s intense gaze.

 

“I’ve gotten you this far. There’s no way I’m letting you miss out when you’re two feet away.”

 

Maki tugged on her arm, and with Umi helplessly in two, she returned to the door of Nozomi’s apartment. Umi’s arm fell limply to her side, and after another long sigh, she followed Maki wordlessly, who knocked on the door after Umi caught up. Clearly, her junior wasn’t going to give her any more opportunities to second-guess herself.

 

“You’ll be fine,” Maki said, as if she knew what Umi was thinking. It wasn’t too hard to figure out, she supposed, just as the handle turned and the door opened.

 

Nozomi stepped out, a warm smile on her face. Umi could hear loud voices and laughter past the doorway. Their senior had her eyes on Maki, and hadn’t yet noticed the guest that trailed behind her.

 

“Maki-chan! So glad you could make it…” Nozomi’s eyes drifted away from the pianist as she realized that someone was standing behind her. “Umi-chan?!” She gasped, far too loudly for Umi’s comfort, and her hand flew to her mouth in an expression of shock.

 

Later, Umi would reflect on the events that followed and conclude that they were something straight out of a manga. Realistically, there was no way that the girls inside should have been able to hear Nozomi’s exclamation, given how loud the chatter and general atmosphere was from their spot outside the apartment. It was as if her first meeting with her former fellow idols was destined to be dramatic, embarrassing, and a general commotion.

 

In that moment, Umi stepped forward and opened her mouth, intending to shush Nozomi, but it was too late; she heard all of the conversation inside screech to a dead stop. Umi’s eyes widened in horror.

 

“Umi-chan’s here?!” A high-pitched voice exclaimed, laced with excitement. Rapid footsteps followed, approaching alarmingly close to the doorway. Nozomi saw what was coming and ducked her head, and a moment later a bright orange head of hair popped out from the top half of the doorway, her mouth open in disbelief.

 

“No way!” Rin disappeared momentarily behind the door again to yell, “Hey, everyone! Umi-chan’s here!”

 

Then the floodgates opened. The door nearly rattled off of its hinges as Rin was the first to tackle Umi in a suffocating hug. The other girls wasted no time in following suit, and within moments she was surrounded. Exclamations and questions were floated at her, so many at once that she couldn’t find the words to answer any of them.

 

“You didn’t tell us you were coming!”

 

“It’s been so long since we heard from you!”

 

“I was starting to think that you died…”

 

Nozomi was mindful enough to pick up on Umi’s helplessness. “How about we go inside? It’s cold out here, and we can catch up with Umi-chan where it’s warmer.”

 

General sounds of agreement were made, and Umi was ushered inside. As she took off her shoes in the doorway she glanced over at Maki, who merely shrugged.

 

 _Told you,_ the gesture seemed to say.

 

 _Told me what?_ Umi wondered, but she couldn’t voice the thought as Nozomi pulled her to the apartment’s lone couch. Fortunately, all eyes didn’t seem to be on her even after the commotion outside, and many of the girls had returned to their places before she had arrived. Hanayo, Rin, and Nico sat at the table, the latter two apparently in an argument judging from the intensity of their voices.

 

“Sorry if you haven’t eaten anything yet,” Nozomi chuckled sheepishly. “I didn’t make anything except tea, in case you wanted to warm up.”

 

“Oh, it’s alright. I ate before I…” Umi paused as a hand found its place on her left shoulder, accompanied by a light squeeze. She jumped slightly at the contact and whipped around.

 

“If you didn’t tell us you were coming to surprise us, it worked.” Eli had somehow snuck up on her, and the blonde girl grinned, her tone playful.

 

“It’s good to see you too, Eli.” Umi returned the smile, stepping forward to hug her senior. As she did so, she saw Maki glancing at them, and remembered their exchange on the train. “I thought I was due for a visit.”

 

“That’s an understatement, if I’ve ever heard one. If you’ve been so busy that you’re ignoring us, I’m sure you have a lot of crazy college stories.” Eli sat down on the couch and motioned for Umi to do the same.

 

Umi flushed red at her friend’s assumption. She didn’t think that sitting in her room all day fell under that ‘crazy’ category. “It’s really nothing special…”

 

“Right?” Nozomi cut in from the kitchen, having either not heard Umi’s qualifying statement or choosing to ignore it. “I thought Umi-chan was the last person who’d go crazy in college! Ooh, maybe she’s found new friends there and that’s why she doesn’t have time for us anymore.” She shook her head in what Umi assumed to be mock self-pity. “Ah, but that’s life.”

 

“Where are you two getting these ideas from? Nothing of the sort has happened.” Umi looked curiously from Eli to Nozomi, and back again.

 

“Nothing?” Eli repeated. “No parties?”

 

“No.”

 

“No flings? No girlfriends?”

 

Umi raised an eyebrow, but didn’t question it. “No.”

 

“No _friends?_ ”

 

“Not really.” Umi’s ears burned with shame while she tried to focus on the floor. She had hardly been here for two minutes and already she was having the sort of unpleasant conversation that she had been dreading.

 

“Then, what have you been doing since we last heard from you?” Eli’s warm, relaxing demeanor had already begun to give way to something resembling genuine concern, just as Umi had predicted.

 

Instead of answering, Umi turned to Maki, who leaned against the wall next to her. She had been silent since they entered the apartment, her eyes fixed on the table where Nico and her (former) fellow first-years sat. “You didn’t tell them?”

 

“About what?” Maki feigned ignorance.

 

“About my, er…” Umi glanced at her two seniors again, who were watching her intently. “My _tendencies_.”

 

“I didn’t know how much you wanted me to say, so I didn’t say anything. I think I made the right decision.”

 

Umi couldn’t argue with that, even if it made explaining this to her friends even more daunting and uncomfortable. At that moment, a kettle on the stove began to whistle and Nozomi moved to turn it off. Seconds later she sat down on the couch’s third cushion as she reached across Eli to hand Umi her tea.

 

The blue-haired girl accepted it with a quick “Thank you,” then blew on it gently to help it cool down. She took in the sight of her own green-tinted reflection for a second. “If any of this sounds too far-fetched, Maki can confirm that this is true. College hasn’t been easy for me. My grades are decent enough, but as you just suggested,” she nodded at Eli, “there should be much more to college than that.

 

“I live alone, and I haven’t made any close friends there. Just people who I talk to every so often.”

 

“Then, why don’t you talk to us more?”

 

“We’re always willing to lend you an ear or give you some support,” Nozomi added.

 

“Some of us even have a bit more free time to chat.” Eli smiled knowingly. Umi wasn’t sure if she was referring to herself or one of the other girls, but she didn’t ask.

 

“Thank you. It’s reassuring to hear that.”

 

“But you knew, didn’t you?” Nozomi asked her. “You knew that we’re always just a text or a phone call away if you need support.”

 

 _Once again,_ Umi thought, _Nozomi has demonstrated her unsettling perceptiveness._ It made her shiver at how little she has been able to hide from her purple-haired senior. “Yes, I knew.”

 

“Then why haven’t you been talking to us?” Nozomi pressed, gently.

 

“Because I don’t think I deserve your support,” Umi said, bowing her head.

 

“Umi.” Eli began, sympathetically.

 

“Why ever not?” Nozomi finished for her.

 

Umi crossed her arms and shifted her focus to her feet, which swung restlessly over the side of the couch. Her mouth opened, closed, and opened again without any sound coming from it in the meanwhile, while she mulled over how best to present her current situation. She was drawing a blank, though, so after what felt like minutes of avoiding her seniors’ concerned stares, she looked up and shook her head. “Just… can you take my word for it? It’s true.” She punctuated her vague statement with a dry laugh, hoping to lighten up the atmosphere and get away from this uncomfortable topic.

 

It seemed that she was unsuccessful at first; Eli kept her gaze on her, and she didn’t have to look over to know that Nozomi was doing the same. Then, after the two exchanged a quick glance, she was finally granted a break. “Alright. We just want to hear from you more.”

 

“I’ll make more of an effort from now on.”

 

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Another, much smaller hand came down hard on Umi’s shoulder. She jumped at the contact, but she didn’t have to turn around to know that the new addition to their conversation was her third senior. She did so anyway, and saw that Nico had one eyebrow quirked at her, her mouth twisted in something akin to a smirk and ready to give her hell.

 

“H-hello to you too, Nico…” Umi managed.

 

The girl in question responded with a dramatic eye-roll, before plopping down in the small space that Umi had left on the couch, forcing the other three to make space for her. “Seriously? Don’t talk so formally. We’re not strangers, you know.” As she sat down, she removed her hand from Umi’s shoulder and slung it across her back, so that there was no escaping for the younger girl.

 

Umi shot her a look. “That’s just how I speak…”

 

“So?” Nico leaned in. “What’s your excuse?”

 

Umi was about to respond with a defensive and possibly scathing remark when she became aware of a small commotion behind her. She turned just in time to catch Eli gesturing frantically at Nico; her hand waving rapidly back and forth across her throat in a very clear warning. They made eye contact while Eli’s hand was mid-swipe, upon which the older girl immediately dropped the guilty party into her lap. Clearing her throat loudly, she fixed the petite girl with a stern glare. “Nico, please try to be a _little_ more sensitive. We don’t know what Umi’s been going through.”

 

“I know that! That’s why I’m trying to -” at this, Maki, who had been listening to their entire conversation from her spot next to the couch, brought her hand squarely down onto Nico’s head. The smaller girl yelped in pain, effectively cutting her off. “Ouch! What the hell, Maki-chan?”

 

Maki’s hand remained hovering over Nico’s head, while the other one came to rest on her hip. She didn’t say anything, only gesturing to the three other girls who sat on the couch.

 

Nico seemed to get the message and put her own hands up in a gesture of reluctant compliance. “Okay, okay. I’m sorry if I was too insensitive, Umi.”

 

“It’s okay,” Umi responded slowly. She was struggling to keep up with the pace of her friends; it really _had_ been too long since she had last seen them, she thought.

 

“It’s too bad Honoka had work today.” With the threat of Maki’s hand seemingly avoided for now, Nico relaxed into the soft cushions of the couch. “This might be the closest we’ve been to having everyone together.”

 

Once again, Umi recalled a relevant snippet of her conversation with Maki on the train:

 

_“Everyone noticed it.”_

 

“It,” of course, referred to the perceived distance between Umi and her childhood friends. _Maki said “everyone,” so that means Nico noticed it too, and she’s being insensitive again…_ Umi looked to confirm this and saw that Eli had buried her face in her hands, and was currently in the middle of letting out a long sigh. She also thought she saw Nozomi’s hands twitch. Despite herself, she had to smile at her friends’ antics. “Really? Does that mean Kotori will be here?”

 

“Dunno,” Nico answered with a shrug. “We haven’t heard from her since yesterday, so maybe she’s trying to surprise everyone like you did.”

 

Umi pushed down the growing unease in her stomach and tried to laugh. “That would be quite the coincidence.”

 

Unfortunately, Umi had been too distracted by her seniors to notice the three knocks at the door moments before. Nor did she notice Hanayo getting up and answering for whoever was there, and it wasn’t until she heard the familiar voice in the hallway that she considered getting up, hiding, and revealing herself at a more opportune time.

 

“You must be tired, Kotori-chan!” Hanayo was saying.

 

“A little bit, but it’s okay,” Kotori responded cheerfully. From what Umi could tell, she was still in the doorway, most likely in the process of taking off her shoes. “I think I’m pretty used to the train ride by now.”

 

“We’re all glad you could make it. Good news, everyone!” Hanayo was leading Kotori past the kitchen, and Umi saw her first as she turned to the rest of the girls with a bright smile. “We have two surprise visitors today!”

 

The general cheer in the room was revitalized at this announcement, and most of the girls got up from their seats to greet Kotori. Umi, however, remained rooted in her spot, her leg bouncing in nervous apprehension.

 

“Two…?” Kotori repeated curiously. She answered her own question as she crossed the threshold to the living room. After receiving a few friendly hugs from the other girls, she inevitably locked eyes with Umi, who hadn’t moved from the couch.

 

Umi was still mentally unprepared, but Kotori reacted almost immediately. She giggled, breaking out into a warm smile. “Umi-chan! Did you steal my idea?”

 

She found that she could only stare, wide-eyed. Her mouth hung open, but no response came.

 

Hanayo beckoned for Umi to get up. “We’re almost all together now! Isn’t this great?”

 

Umi wasn’t sure if she agreed, but if anything, the inviting smile that Kotori beamed at her told her that, maybe, she was worried for nothing. “Y-yeah,” she managed as she finally willed herself off of the couch. As she did so, Kotori stretched her arms out to her in a welcoming gesture. Umi had to smile. “It’s been a while, Kotori.” She reciprocated by reaching out her own arm and embracing her childhood friend.

 

“It’s very nice to see you, Umi-chan.” Kotori pulled back from the hug first, placing her hands on Umi’s shoulders. Umi returned her smile, thinking that Kotori was going to say something to her, but she didn’t comply. They stood there, staring at each other for a good five seconds before the realization hit Umi.

 

_This is kind of awkward…_

 

She knew that Kotori was aware of it too from the way that her smile faded, only slightly, but enough for Umi to notice. She tilted her head so that she was giving Umi a sidelong glance, and pointed towards the door. “Why don’t we go outside?”

 

“Yes, I think that would be good.” Umi rubbed the back of her neck when she realized that there were more than a few pairs of eyes on them.

 

“Okay! We’ll be right back.” Kotori addressed this to the other girls, and Umi turned to follow her, but not before she saw Nozomi flash her a thumbs-up. She sighed.

 

Outside, Kotori leaned against the railing as Umi shut the door before turning to face her. The tain-haired girl still didn’t say anything, and as their breath visibly rolled away from their faces in light puffs, Umi became all too aware that she would have to talk first. Not knowing what Kotori wanted to talk about made it all the more nerve-wracking, but she reminded herself that even if she got an earful of everything she had done wrong over the past year and a half, she probably deserved it.

 

“We probably have a lot to catch up on,” Umi began, sheepishly, as she joined Kotori at the railing.

 

“It seems so.”  


“How have you been? Is Tokyo treating you well?”

 

Kotori smiled, but when she raised her head to look at her, Umi could see the weariness in her eyes. “In some ways, yes. The fashion industry is just so competitive, so the classes really push everyone to their creative limit. I’ve seen my fair share of breakdowns already.”

 

“What about you?” Umi asked, her eyes widening in concern. “Are you okay? Please don’t tell me you’re talking about yourself, too.”

 

“No, no,” Kotori giggled and shook her head. “I’ve been doing okay so far. It’s just difficult to balance school, my own projects, and trying to find a job or an internship.”

 

“Have you found anything yet? It shouldn’t be hard for you, considering your previous experience…”

 

Kotori smiled bashfully. “I’d like to say that my reputation precedes me, but that’s just being close-minded. This is Tokyo we’re talking about, after all. Companies have such a large talent pool to pick from here, so it’s not too easy to get noticed.”

 

Umi tried to reassure Kotori by placing a hand on her shoulder. “I don’t know much about working in fashion, but I’ll be there for you if you need the support.” She hesitated at this, wondering briefly if Kotori would want to hear her next words, but she steeled herself. “Even if you need someone to try on one of your outfits, I’ll do it.”

 

“Really?” Kotori giggled. “You’re six hours away from me, though.” She reached for Umi’s hand, gently removing it from her shoulder, although she held onto it while she spoke. “Besides, you’ll have to prove that you’re more reliable before you make promises like that.”

 

Umi didn’t know whether it was the sheer bluntness of Kotori’s statement or the fact that said statement was delivered with a genuine smile, but she felt a stab of pain at her friend’s words. “Kotori…” she muttered, ducking her head in embarrassment, “it would be easier on me if you put it less frankly…” She squeezed Kotori’s hand in her own, knowing that the redness on her face was easily visible no matter how she tried to hide it.

 

“Sorry, sorry.” Kotori laughed again, and Umi confirmed in the back of her mind that her friend got a great deal of enjoyment out of seeing her flustered. “I just had to say it. You can’t disappear for as long as you did and expect me not to say something about it.”

 

“I know. It just doesn’t make me feel much better.”

 

Umi looked up to see Kotori still smiling at her, but her head was slightly cocked to the side, indicating her curiosity. “Umi-chan, are you doing okay?”

 

“In regards to school?” She stepped closer to Kotori as a harsh chill made her teeth chatter.

 

“That too.”

 

She didn’t want to lie, so she settled for a shrug. “I’ve seen better days, I think.”

 

“The real world can be pretty harsh,” Kotori said sympathetically.

 

“It’s been looking up recently, though.”

 

“That’s good!” She perked up at Umi’s words. “May I ask why?”

 

Umi reached into her coat pocket and produced her sheet of lyrics. “I enlisted Maki’s help in writing this. I’d call it our project for Christmas break.” She unfolded the paper and handed it to Kotori. The tan-haired girl read over it silently while Umi twiddled her thumbs.

 

“Wow. This is really poetic, Umi-chan.” Kotori looked impressed.

 

Umi blushed. “You don’t have to put it like that.”

 

“No, I really love it. Has Maki-chan started writing the music for it?” Kotori squinted as she brought the paper closer to her face, presumably to read the many scribbles written in the margins.

 

“Not really. She wanted me to give her the framework before she started.”

 

“You’re writing the music, too?” Kotori asked, surprised.

 

Umi hurried to reassure her. “I only have a small part in it. It really isn’t anything special.”

 

“I’m sure it will turn out wonderfully. I can tell you still have a talent for this.” Kotori gave her another teasing smile, and indicated the lyrics by offering them back to her. “Do you mind if I ask who it’s about?”

 

“Why would you assume it’s about someone?”

 

Kotori shrugged innocently. “The lyrics are addressing a ‘you’ throughout.”

 

“A lot of my songs did that.”

 

“That’s true, but I think this one’s different.” Kotori said knowingly.

 

“Why?” Between this and Maki’s previous observations, Umi was beginning to wonder just how transparent her own motives were.

 

“Nowadays, you don’t have to write songs for the sake of writing them.”

 

“I wasn’t doing that back then, either,” Umi muttered, a little defensively. “I tried to be as genuine as possible when I wrote lyrics.”

 

“Of course your lyrics were genuine. I’m not denying that.” Kotori giggled. “But, unless you were a much better secret-keeper than I knew, you never experienced romantic love, heartbreak, or even pining while you were writing for μ’s. Am I right?” She counted the feelings off on her fingers as she spoke.

 

“Yes, you’re right…”

 

“Yet you wrote many songs that dealt with those matters,” Kotori continued. “That’s what I mean: you wrote those lyrics for μ’s because that’s what idols sing about.” A sly grin began to take shape on her face. “I think you did quite a good job for someone who had never even been in love.”

 

“What is the point of you flattering me like this, again?” Umi asked, her face slightly red.

 

“I mean all of those things, Umi-chan.” Kotori’s response was sincere, and her smile began to soften into something resembling this. “Compared to your lyrics back then, your motivations for writing this” - she held up the paper - “must be quite different. I want to say you’ve really grown from the last time I saw you.” She then turned her focus to the paper, her amber eyes searching for a specific line. _“The infinite buzzing of vanity’s lips, forming words for the eager of ear,”_ she read off the paper in somewhat impressive English. “I can’t begin to imagine what inspired you to write a line like that.”

 

“Why must you read it aloud like that? It’s really embarrassing…”

 

Another giggle. “It’s going to be sung aloud eventually, right?”

 

Umi sighed. “Well, yes, but once it’s a proper song, not all of the focus will be on the lyrics.”

 

“I wish that wasn’t so. They’re…” Kotori hummed to herself, searching for the right word. “...very heartfelt,” she finally settled on.

 

“I certainly tried in that department,” Umi admitted with a chuckle. “They sort of came to me all at once one night.”

 

“I’ll never understand the creative process.” Kotori’s laugh mirrored Umi’s own. She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice by just a notch. “If you don’t mind me asking, they seem very personal, and I would guess that it’s descriptive of your own experience since you left home?”

 

Umi rubbed her hands together, partly as a reaction to the cold and partly as a display of her growing embarrassment. “Maki said something similar about them. To answer your earlier question, I don’t know if it’s really about someone in particular.”

 

“But you wrote the song yourself.”

 

“Yes, but the inspiration for it was sort of vague in its own right.”

 

Kotori responded with a thoroughly confused stare, so Umi gave her a condensed version of her recurring dreams, and how they served as a backdrop to the creation of the sheet of paper that Kotori now held in her hands.

 

Kotori was silent for a long stretch of time after Umi finished her account. “Are you sure you’re okay, Umi-chan?”

 

Umi was ready to respond in a half-positive manner again, but she couldn’t bring herself to brush off the matter a second time. She took a deep breath, deciding that Kotori was genuinely concerned, so she deserved a genuine answer. “Honestly, I don’t know. The past month has been slightly better, since writing this song gives me a purpose to do _some_ thing. Before that…” she hesitated a moment, wondering if she should just leave her sad state to Kotori’s imagination. She decided against it. “...before that, I was just going through the motions.”

 

Once again, Umi felt a hand on her shoulder. “And you’ve been going through all of this without telling any of us?”

 

“It sounds ridiculous, I know.”

 

“We’re always here for you. All of us.”

 

Umi looked away. She found she couldn’t hold the other girl’s intensely genuine stare. “Is that true?”

 

“Of course it is.” Kotori looked somewhat taken aback. “Why would you think otherwise?”

Umi bit her lip and ran her hands across the cold metal railing that separated them from a twenty-foot drop to the street below. She was silently thankful that Kotori was so patient; her friend didn’t say a word while she took her time in answering. Finally, she decided to be honest with Kotori; she deserved it, with how distant they had been these past two years. “You should know why, Kotori.” She shut her eyes, hoping that she wouldn’t have to elaborate, though it was a foolish hope.

 

“Because of you and Honoka-chan?”

 

“Yes.”

 

In the silence that followed, Umi tuned in to the chatter that emanated from inside the apartment. She wondered whether they were talking about her, and made a note to establish to everyone that she and Kotori were on good terms once again.

 

Honoka, on the other hand, was a different matter entirely, one that remained to be seen.

 

When Kotori’s response finally came, it was quiet and serious. “You really are too hard on yourself.”

 

“I think my punishment was well-deserved.”

 

“I can see why you shut yourself off, but the amount of time that you did it was a little extreme...”

 

Umi rubbed the back of her head, averting Kotori’s gaze once again. “Time just flies by after high school, I guess?”

 

The weight of Kotori’s observant stare left her, and she turned to see a sad smile take its place. “That’s true, but being alone for that long can’t be healthy for you.”

 

“Don’t remind me,” Umi muttered, perhaps a little too sarcastically. “Perhaps you’re right. It was a little extreme of me…”

 

“So, you stopped talking to us because you couldn’t forgive yourself for what you did to Honoka-chan?”

 

“More or less, yes.”

 

“What does that have to do with the rest of us?”

 

“It has everything to do with the rest of you...” Umi responded, her voice quiet. “I couldn’t carry on as if nothing had happened, because it would just hurt her even more. Not only that, but I knew that you girls would take her side if word got out about us. It would be the right thing to do, since I was certainly in the wrong.”

 

“I don’t think completely closing yourself off was much better for her, or for you…”

 

“It was either that or confront my mistakes, and I’m far too much of a coward to do _that_.”

  
Kotori had since removed her hand from Umi’s shoulder, but now that same hand found Umi’s own. “It seems like you’re already on your way.”

 

“You think so?” Umi flushed and looked away.

 

“You’re here now, with us. That’s a good start.”

 

In the back of her mind, past the embarrassment and shame that clouded the forefront, Umi wondered what she had done to deserve friends who were so willing to forgive her many shortcomings. “Thank you, Kotori.”

 

“I’m glad you’re coming around,” Kotori said. Another period of silence followed. Umi looked away and inhaled deeply, due to the weight of what she would ask next.

 

“So…” Umi managed. “How is Honoka?”

 

Kotori didn’t respond right away. “As far as I can tell, she’s doing fine.”

 

“Do you two talk often?”

 

“I try to, when I have time. Other than that, she’s fairly active in the group chat.”

 

“I guess I wouldn’t know that…” Umi muttered. Kotori didn’t have an immediate response, and Umi didn’t need to tear her gaze away from the cityscape to know that Kotori was staring at her again.

 

“I’m going to be blunt with you, Umi-chan.”

 

She nodded and braced herself.

 

“I’m being vague with you because I think it would be better if you found these things out on your own.”

 

That wasn’t what Umi had been expecting. “I’m sorry?”

 

Kotori broke out into a smile once again. “You should go visit Honoka-chan and ask her these things yourself!”

 

“What?!” Umi stiffened immediately. “I couldn’t! Why do you think that’s a good idea?”

 

“I don’t _think_ it’s a good idea, I _know_ it’s a good idea.” Kotori’s smile didn’t waver in the face of Umi’s obvious disapproval.

 

“W-well then, how do you know?”

 

“She still wants to see you again. She told me.”

 

Umi took a deep breath, her heart still racing from her outburst moments before. Similarly, her mind whirred as numerous Honoka-centric scenarios played out in her head, seemingly all at once. Not once had she considered that her relationship to Honoka was, at the moment, anything remotely close to positive. “Are you sure?” she asked warily.

 

At this, Kotori crossed her arms and frowned. “Would I lie to you, Umi-chan?” She huffed to emphasize how ridiculous the idea sounded.

 

“I can’t remember the last time you did…”

 

“Ex-act-ly.” Kotori drew each syllable of the word out. As she spoke, she reached out her hand and pressed a gentle yet firm finger into Umi’s forehead. “I need you to get this into your head, Umi-chan. I know how stubborn you can be.”

 

Umi crossed her eyes to stare at the finger that was intruding into her personal space, but otherwise did nothing. “Okay,” she sighed. “I’ll visit her.”

 

“I have your word?”

 

Umi glanced from Kotori’s finger to her expectant face. “...Yes, you have my word,” she answered after some hesitation.

 

“Wonderful!” Kotori removed her finger from Umi’s forehead, and Umi found herself breathing a quiet sigh of relief. “How does tomorrow sound?”

 

Umi’s eyes widened. “That’s far too soon!”

 

“What happened to your word?” Kotori pouted. “The sooner you visit her, the better. Otherwise, you might just try to make excuses and put it off.”

 

“That’s....” Umi cringed and looked away. As much as she hated to admit it, Kotori was right. “I suppose I can visit her tomorrow…”

 

“Let me know how it goes.” Kotori’s smile returned.

 

Umi shot her friend a look. “I take it you’re not going with me?”

 

“Of course not. You know that you two have some things to take care of first.”

 

“It was a fleeting hope…” Umi sighed.

 

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Kotori giggled. “You’ll be fine.”

 

“Did Honoka tell you that, as well?”

 

“No, but I like to think that I still know both of you well enough to say that.”

 

Umi could only shrug in response. “I hope you’re right.”

 

“In fact, I’m already planning for the three of us to spend Christmas Eve together.”

 

“That’s…” A number of negative outcomes forced themselves to the front of Umi’s mind, and she had to ignore them. “...rather optimistic of you.”

 

Kotori merely shrugged, but her cheery smile remained. Another silence settled upon the two, but Umi didn’t feel any sense of discomfort or unease during this stretch. Kotori’s hand lingered on hers for a few more moments before separating. With nothing else to say, Umi turned her attention to the passerby that dotted the sidewalks below them. Though it was Monday afternoon, Christmas Eve was only two days away, and thus the normally peaceful streets were already beginning to pack with last-minute shoppers and early vacationers. The sight was comforting, yet for some reason, Umi began to have a nagging feeling in the back of her mind.

 

“Do you girls have any plans for Christmas?” she asked Kotori.

 

“We were talking about seeing the Christmas lights once we’re all together again, but that’s about it.”

 

“You didn’t plan any gift exchanges?”

 

“Not this year. I guess no one was feeling particularly selfish this time around.” Kotori giggled at her own joke. “Really, I couldn’t tell you why.”

 

“Was it because everyone assumed I wouldn’t be here?” Umi raised an eyebrow.

 

“Ah, that might be it,” Kotori said. Her voice hitched with surprise, as if this was the first time this thought had crossed her mind.

 

Umi sighed. “I suppose it’s fine. I wouldn’t want everyone to change their plans just because I’m here.”

 

“Your presence is a gift in and of itself, Umi-chan!”

 

Clearly, chastising Kotori for teasing her wasn’t getting through at all. Umi resigned herself to an annoyed stare, and remained silent otherwise.

 

Kotori frowned but didn’t shrink back. “It’s true! At the very least, you surprised us all. We were starting to worry that you were gone for good.”

 

“I was thinking the same thing,” Umi chuckled dryly. “It seems like inspiration struck at just the right time.”

 

“That’s one way to look at it.” Kotori’s reply was cryptic, and she didn’t give Umi a chance to probe into it. “By the way, do the others know what you’re up to?” She indicated Umi’s sheet of lyrics by holding the paper out to her.

 

Umi took it, folded it, and pocketed the sheet in one motion.. “I was planning on telling them today. Maki and I already discussed some potential repercussions, and we want to let the others know about it as soon as possible, to avoid any unwelcome surprises.”

 

“You should show Honoka-chan, too.”

 

“I’ll tell her about it, but I don’t want to show anyone any actual previews until the song is finished.” Umi bit her lip, then added: “Partly because I don’t know how the finished product is going to sound yet.”

 

“I’m sure she’ll like it.”

 

Umi frowned. “I didn’t write it for her, but I would be very glad if she approved.”

 

Kotori looked at her questioningly, as if she was on the verge of challenging that statement, but her expression changed right before she said: “If you say so, Umi-chan.”

 

Umi shuffled her feet. Kotori was teasing her again, but she wasn’t willing to ask herself why. She didn’t write the song for Honoka; in fact, she had made many active attempts in the past two years to keep Honoka out of her mind, to varying degrees of success. Yet now, when Kotori was clearly insinuating that she had written the lyrics with a certain mutual friend in mind, she couldn’t deny it outright.

 

Or, perhaps, she was simply overthinking her friends’ intentions again and Kotori was giving her the benefit of the doubt. She decided to return the favor by acknowledging Kotori’s statement with a nod, and nothing more.

 

“Well then, it’s settled! You’ll visit Honoka-chan tomorrow. Shall we go back inside? The others are probably starting to wonder about us.” Kotori turned from the railing and rubbed her hands together, making her way towards the door.

 

Umi followed her, muttering reassurances under her breath. They entered to the sight of the other six girls crowded around the lone table in the apartment. They seemed to be conferring on something rather private, but upon seeing the two girls in the doorway, Maki perked up.  “Oh, good, you’re back.,” she said. “I was just telling them about the song.”

 

“I think it’s wonderful that you’re still writing songs.” Hanayo was the first to offer her opinion on the matter.

 

Nico shot Umi a disapproving look, but the smile on her face was more telling. “It’s a good thing Maki-chan told us about it now. I would’ve been pretty shocked if I was surfing the Net and saw idol forums talking about a ‘μ’s comeback,’ with leaked previews of our new song. Although, ‘Umi Sonoda Solo Project’ sounds even more shocking…”

 

“I’m really excited to hear it! Live instruments… how cool is that?” Nozomi sighed wistfully. “It’s so new, but somehow so nostalgic too.”

 

Umi took in the positive reception, but was unable to formulate an immediate response. She looked pleadingly to Maki for an explanation.

 

Her junior smiled apologetically. “Sorry, Umi. I was going over the notes I’ve been working on in my phone when Rin peeked over my shoulder. You can see what happened next.”

 

“I don’t really know what jazz sounds like, but I bet it’s gonna be super cool!” As if on cue, Rin’s voice sounded awfully close to her ear. Umi jumped slightly and whipped around to see Rin awfully close to her face.

 

“I hope so, too…” Umi chuckled nervously, then cleared her throat. “Everyone, I don’t know how much Maki has told you yet, but I’m trying to keep this under the radar. As Nico said, I don’t want word to get out that this is a μ’s project, because it’s not.”

 

“Maki did stress how personal it is compared to your other work,” Eli mused.

 

“So, you’re not writing it as a kickstarter to your solo project?” Nico asked.

 

Umi waved away the possibility. “No. I don’t really plan on promoting it, outside of the advertisements that we may have to do for musicians who would record the backing track. Its popularity isn’t a factor to me.”

 

Eli scratched her head, frowning. “If you’re not going to promote or sell it, then why are you writing it?”

 

Umi looked to Kotori, who had been silent ever since they had returned to the apartment. Her friend returned the gaze and simply smiled her cryptic smile. “Self-fulfillment, I guess?”

 

“And because it’s fun,” Maki added.

 

That got a chuckle out of Umi. “Yes, that too.”

 

Nozomi hummed while a worrying smile began to form at the corners of her mouth. “I do miss how fun it was to record and perform. Maybe Nico-cchi was right: a μ’s comeback could be in the works!”

 

The statement drew shocked stares from Umi and a few others. Nozomi looked around sheepishly as she realized that her joke didn’t have its intended effect. “I’m joking, I’m joking. I do hope to see what the final result is, Umi-chan.”

 

“I don’t know how, exactly, but we’re always willing to help if you need it.” Eli’s statement was met with nods of agreement from the rest of the group.

 

Umi smiled warmly. “Thank you, everyone. I’ll be sure to show you our finished product.”

 

“No disappearing on us before then,” Nico deadpanned, and Umi had to laugh.

 

* * *

 

 

Umi stood in the doorway once again. This time, she waited for Kotori and Maki as the latter two put on their shoes. Without realizing it, they had stayed the longest as the other girls trickled out, individually or in pairs. Umi was the subject of many a loaded question from the girls on their way out, ranging from “I’ll see you again soon, right?” to “Are you free on Christmas Eve?” She had assured each of them, in turn, that no, she wasn’t going into another self-imposed exile after today.

 

The foyer was silent, until Maki slipped on her right shoe and spoke up. “I’ll ask, since no one else did and I have a feeling you talked about this with Kotori.”

 

Umi exchanged a glance with Kotori, raising an eyebrow. “Is it about Honoka?”

 

Maki nodded. “Are you going to show her the song, too?”

 

“I probably will when I visit her tomorrow.”

 

“Tomorrow?” The surprise in Maki’s voice was evident. “Are you excited?”

 

Umi grimaced. “‘Nervous’ might be a better word.”

 

“You might have your own reasons, but I think she’ll be happy to hear about it.”

 

“Okay?” Umi looked from Maki to Kotori, and back again. This wasn’t the first time the two had said something similar on separate occasions. She was beginning to feel a little uneasy about it.

 

“Anyway, I’ll try to dedicate time to songwriting tomorrow, before the Christmas rush happens.” Of course, Maki didn’t seem fazed by her and Kotori’s synchronicity, because she probably wasn’t aware of it.

 

“Don’t sweat it. We still have two weeks.”

 

“I’m glad everyone was so receptive to the idea,” Maki sighed as she opened the door.

 

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Kotori put in. “It’s very nice to see how far your love for music goes. The same goes for Umi-chan.”

 

Umi trailed behind the other two girls as they talked, already in the beginnings of spacing out. Thoughts of tomorrow took the majority of her attention. As she felt the sheet of lyrics in her pocket, she again muttered reassurances to herself and tried to believe that they were working.

 

She was going to see Honoka again, tomorrow. She couldn’t wait, but at the same time she couldn’t help but imagine all the ways that it could go wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cons of this chapter:  
> \- I took more than 3 months to write it  
> \- I rewrote the scene with Kotori at least 3 times and I'm still not 100% happy with it  
> \- I started playing SIF again after a 10-month hiatus and it's ruining my life
> 
> Pros of this chapter:  
> \- Going to AX and seeing all of the Love Live support there really inspired me  
> \- I took 3 months to write this chapter instead of 6  
> \- most of the girls are together again!
> 
> See you all again soon! hopefully


	5. City Lights & Traffic Sounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Honoka chapter is finally here! I hope it was worth the wait.
> 
> Rating changed due to large amounts of emotional baggage. I'm reposting this chapter since it didn't bump the first time I posted - sorry if that caused any confusion.

Umi looked up to the sight of the familiar storefront greeting her. Late mornings on weekdays lent themselves to slower business, and Homura Sweets Shop was certainly no exception even with Christmas just two days away.. The surrounding streets were deserted, leading Umi to believe that the inside of the store was no different… except for one person. The thought of facing Honoka again still terrified her, even though - or perhaps partly due to the fact that - more than a year and a half had passed since their last meeting.

 

It didn’t help that said last meeting didn’t end on particularly good terms.

 

Umi squeezed her eyes shut and inhaled deeply. She had put this off long enough. Kotori’s words to her resounded in her mind: _“She still wants to see you again.”_ She glanced down, smoothing out her woolen sweater. It was a purely nervous gesture, since she doubted that woolen sweaters were even capable of being wrinkled. Still, she had spent far too much time in front of the mirror earlier that morning, picking out (and rejecting) a number of outfits before remembering that it probably didn’t matter what she wore. She was meeting up with her friend, not going on a date.

 

Now, she slid open the door to the sound of chimes, the pleasant and painfully familiar aroma of homemade sweets greeting her. A girl stood behind the counter with her back to Umi, the white strings of her apron tied around her back. Her hair was tied up in a similar manner, but its striking orange was unmistakable. Umi stood in the entranceway, mouth open but words failing to call for the attention of her friend… if that feeling was still mutual even after all this time.

 

Fear also constricted the words in her throat, for she was almost too scared to see Honoka’s expression after she turned around. Surprise? Sadness? Disgust? Imagining those expressions on a face that had been so consistently bright and fearless two years ago terrified Umi to the point that her feet almost uprooted her from the entranceway, but the instinct to flee kicked in too late.

 

Honoka turned around, the rehearsed greeting of “Welcome to our-” dying on her lips as their eyes met.

 

She was making it painfully obvious that seeing Umi again shocked her, so Umi herself similarly failed to find anything to save the situation. They stood there in silence, less than ten feet and almost two years’ worth of lost time between them.

 

Then…

 

“Umi…-chan?” Honoka’s expression, wide-eyed and vulnerable, didn’t change as the name tumbled out.

 

“H-hello.” She responded, automatically, before realizing how stiff she sounded. “Honoka, I-”

 

She jumped as the girl in question flew out from behind the counter, and in a moment, she found herself staring into the deep blues of Honoka’s eyes. She looked down and saw how, even as Honoka’s hands remained firmly rooted to her sides, her fingers, dusty with flour and powdered sugar, twitched achingly. A cruel part of Umi’s mind suggested that, perhaps, Honoka wished to throw her arms around her, but instead Umi felt her hands grasped in her friend’s own.

 

“Ohmygosh,” Honoka whispered, her eyes still wide and reverent, “you didn’t tell me you were coming!” Slowly, as she raised their joined hands to where Umi could see them, a smile began to tug at the corners of her mouth, but it vanished before it could fully form as a realization took its place. “Aren’t you tired? It’s a really long train ride home, right?” She dropped Umi’s hands and leapt back. “Oh jeez, I haven’t even offered you anything yet! I’m the worst!”

 

Umi’s eyes tried, and failed, to keep up with Honoka as she hurried from the oven to the microwave to the stove. Somehow, she hadn’t managed to slip in a word edgewise, and the thought made her smile. Less than a minute into their reunion, things could have been going much worse.

 

Maybe, just maybe, things could go back to the way they had been.

 

* * *

 

 

Umi sat in the family living room, trying her hardest not to fidget. She had been ushered there by Honoka, who insisted that she make herself comfortable. (“It wouldn’t be right if I made you wait behind the counter like you were any old customer!” Honoka had declared in the face of Umi’s protests.) And so she was all but pushed to the living room, and left there while Honoka darted back to the shop front to gather the sweets.

 

Honoka’s tuneless humming emanated from the front of the shop. Umi took the time to glance around, and although it wasn’t the best indicator, she didn’t see much that had changed from the last time she had been here. A TV sat in a corner opposite the entrance, and various cabinets and shelves lined the walls, but the room was otherwise sparse as far as decorations were concerned.

 

It wasn’t long before the sliding door was thrown open again. Honoka joined her at the table, sitting down on the opposite side while she set a plate of sweets down between them. “Here, Umi-chan! I bet you missed our sweets while you were away, didn’t you?” She gestured to the plate with a wide smile.

 

Umi took in the assortment of desserts that lay before her; ohagi, mochi, and others were neatly lined up for her to take. She picked up a ball of manjuu and examined it, smiling nostalgically. “I tried not to think about it too much.” She bit into it, a sigh escaping her lips as the sweetness overwhelmed her senses. “Now that I’m eating it again after all this time, it’s pretty clear that I’ve been missing out.”

 

Honoka giggled at Umi’s reaction. “We haven’t changed our recipe since you left, so it’s the same manjuu that you’ve always loved.”

 

Umi smiled in response and finished the rest of her manjuu in silence. She had expected Honoka to pick up the conversation somewhere, but Honoka seemed content to watch her eat. Umi shifted from side to side, casting her eyes about the room. The awkwardness of their situation began to set in. She had to think of something, something that was innocuous enough to prevent the conversation from getting too heavy yet open-ended enough to stave off the impending stretch of silence.

 

“Are you managing the shop full-time?”

 

“No, no.” Honoka waved her hands to discard the notion. “I still have a long way to go. Mom isn’t confident yet that I can do everything on my own. Besides, she’s not that old yet.”

 

“That’s not what I meant,” Umi chuckled. “You certainly look the part, is all.” It was true, although Umi couldn’t tell exactly why this was so. Perhaps it was the combination of the flour that still coated Honoka’s hands and the well-worn apron that she donned over her casual clothes, but it was this very image that impressed itself into Umi’s mind when she had first seen Honoka from the entranceway.

 

She wasn’t sure how to feel about that. She certainly meant it as a compliment, but…

 

Honoka looked away, smiling wryly. “You think so?”

 

“I do.”

 

“Maybe I really am cut out for it, then.” Honoka giggled and rubbed the back of her neck. Umi recognized the self-conscious fidgeting. _Is this what you’ve been doing the last two years? Are you still unsure about it?_ She didn’t dare voice these thoughts aloud; it wouldn’t look very good for her to speculate about Honoka’s life choices just minutes into their reunion.

 

“I’m sure you didn’t visit to hear me talk about the shop! How’s college? I bet you’re killing it over there!” Honoka picked a mochi off the pile and leaned in excitedly.

 

Umi leaned back slightly, already feeling the sting of inevitable disappointment. “Why does everyone assume that?”

 

“Because you’re smart. Why else?”

 

“Even if that were true, it wouldn’t be enough.”  


“What do you mean?”

 

Umi bit her lip, debating how to explain her academic predicament. “Would you be disappointed if I told you that I’m not having the easiest time?”

 

“Really?” Honoka all but shouted, causing Umi to flinch. “Why? Are you super busy? Do you have a ton of responsibilities?”

 

 _Does ‘sitting in my room all day’ count as a responsibility?_ Umi bit back the sarcastic response; Honoka didn’t know the current state of her mental health, after all. “I had a part-time job for a while, but other than that I’ve just been focused on school.”

 

“Even someone as smart as you is having trouble with college…” Honoka muttered under her breath, but loud enough for Umi to hear. “Good thing I didn’t go.”

 

“I mean, it’s not just a matter of intelligence…”

 

Honoka scratched her head. “But you have the perfect combination of brains _and_ discipline!”

 

 _That would have been true two years ago…_ Umi tried to take an interest in the manjuu that she had just picked up, but she couldn’t pretend that Honoka’s assessment wasn’t a painful reminder of her current state. “Do you really think that?”

 

“I grew up seeing it, so yeah.” Honoka answered breezily. “Unless…”

 

She didn’t continue. Umi was forced to look up, and almost regretted it when she saw Honoka staring, her head cocked slightly at Umi. “Unless what?” Umi finally asked.

 

“Umi-chan, are you okay?”

 

“You’re asking that out of nowhere.” Shamefully, Umi noted that this was the fourth time that the question had been asked of her in some form. _Am I really that transparent?_

 

Honoka didn’t seem fazed by Umi’s growing embarrassment. “Not really. You keep looking away when you have to answer a question about school.”

 

“Ah.” Umi sighed. _That’s as good of a tell as any._ She mulled over how to word her predicament; clearly, Honoka’s mental image of Umi was still the star student that she was pre-college. “I certainly wish I still got straight A’s.”

 

“Why don’t you? It’s not like you’ve gotten dumber, right?”

 

“No. Probably not,” Umi added, which got a wry smile out of Honoka. “I don’t have the motivation for it.”

 

Honoka took a bite out of her mochi. She chewed it slowly, keeping took her eyes on Umi all the while. “But you’re doing what you love, right?”

 

“Yes.” Umi paused. “I don’t know,” she corrected herself, shaking her head. “I’d rather do this than study a science or go back home to run my family’s business, but…”

 

“But what?”

 

“I don’t know.” She sighed. “Sometimes I wish I was in high school again.”

 

She looked up to see Honoka silently regarding her with wide eyes. Umi looked away and picked another manjuu off of the pile. “Wow,” she muttered, forcing out an awkward laugh, “I didn’t mean for this to get so heavy. Sorry.”

 

Honoka’s usual, cheerful expression returned. To Umi, it was as if she was coming out of a trance. “Why are you apologizing? I know I’m unreliable, but I’m always here for you if you need it.”

 

 _I’m the unreliable one…_ “Thank you, Honoka,” Umi said quietly, trying not to let her shame show. _I don’t deserve that._ She stood up abruptly, as her face was starting to redden. “Do you mind if I use your bathroom?”

 

“You don’t have to ask!” Honoka giggled. “You remember where it is, right?”

 

“Yeah. Thanks.” Umi hurried out the door and towards the stairs. She was still struggling to accept what Honoka had just said. It seemed so _easy_ for her to make that promise.

 

As she started up the stairs, she was so occupied with her thoughts that she didn’t notice the other person making her way down until they bumped into each other. Umi jerked her head up and realized who she had run into. 

 

“Oh!” Umi shrunk back and put up her hands in apology. “I didn’t see you there, Yukiho.”

 

The younger girl didn’t respond right away. If she was surprised at running into Umi, she certainly didn’t show it. Instead, she put one hand on her hip, never breaking eye contact. Her unflinching stare caused Umi to bite her lip in apprehension.

 

Finally, Yukiho said: “What are you doing here?” Her voice was cold.

 

Inwardly, Umi felt like the right choice in this situation was to leave as soon as possible, because Yukiho’s body language and tone were anything but friendly. However, that glare kept her rooted in place. “I came to visit Honoka,” she responded truthfully.

 

“Why?”

 

“Kotori said it might be a good idea -”

 

“You weren’t satisfied with how much damage you did the first time you left? Are you back for more?” Yukiho snarled. She stepped forward, and when Umi tried to step back, she found herself pinned against the wall. Though Umi had a definite size advantage, Yukiho’s indignance was out in full force, and it was a force to be reckoned with.

 

“Of course not!” Umi’s defense came out too feebly to be convincing. She was painfully aware of the wall pressing harshly against her back. “We’re just catching up.”

 

Yukiho didn’t seem convinced. She arched an eyebrow and didn’t back down from her threatening position. “I don’t believe you,” she said flatly.

 

Umi grimaced and tried to look away. “I suppose there isn’t much I can do to convince you.”

 

“Onee-chan’s really forgiven you already…?” Yukiho voiced the question more to herself than to Umi, judging from the way she broke her intense stare to glance towards the living room downstairs.

 

“I don’t know about that…”

 

Yukiho’s fierce glare returned, but the fear that she instilled in Umi was somewhat mitigated as she stepped away for a moment. “But she’s just talking to you, like nothing’s wrong?”

 

“It seems so.” Yukiho appeared to relax, and Umi saw her best chance to explain herself. “Yukiho, I really don’t have any malicious intentions -”

 

Unfortunately, Umi didn’t see Yukiho’s jaw tighten until it was too late. “Oh, and I bet you’re gonna say that you didn’t have any ‘malicious intentions’ the first time you left, either?” Once again, she advanced on Umi, who found herself trapped against the wall for the second time. “Listen up, Umi- _senpai_.” Yukiho seemed to spit the honorific out. “My sister’s heart isn’t something you can play with, then throw away when you feel like it. She might have forgiven you, but that doesn’t mean _I_ have.”

 

Yukiho stepped back and, with a final huff, disappeared down the stairs. Umi was left to clutch at her heart and let out an exhaustive sigh. Though she was still reeling from what had just happened, she had to admit: Yukiho was right. Getting back to where she used to be with Honoka wasn’t going to be this easy.

 

* * *

 

 

“Yukiho passed by. She said she was going out.” Honoka said as Umi returned to her seat at the table. “Did you run into her?”

 

“Yeah, I did.” Umi looked away.

 

“Did she say anything to you?”

 

“Um…” She looked back up, into Honoka’s earnest eyes. _She didn’t hear,_ she decided. “Nothing important.”

 

Honoka nodded, and Umi breathed a soft sigh of relief, which took precedence over the brief twinge of guilt she felt for lying. “She didn’t know you were coming, so she must have been pretty surprised!”

 

“It seemed so…” Umi fiddled with the empty teacup in front of her, eager to change the topic. “She’s a third-year now, right?”

 

“Yeah, it’s crazy! It seems like she’ll never stop complaining about entrance exams and tests and all that stuff.” Honoka sighed heavily, as if she were the one who was studying rigorously, and not her younger sister. “I’m glad I never had to go through all that.”

 

Umi briefly recalled her own entrance exams. “It _was_ rather stressful…” A frown overtook her face as she struggled to form a distinct picture of that time.

 

Honoka giggled. “You and Kotori-chan were studying so much during that time! And I thought that our third year was for slacking off…”

 

“I don’t think you reserved slacking off just for our third year.” Umi affixed Honoka with an expectant look. The other girl expertly avoided her gaze, although she still seemed to shrivel under its intensity.

 

“Yeah, I don’t think school is really for me,” Honoka admitted. “I dunno if I would’ve made it through without you two.”

 

“That’s why we were there, I suppose.” Umi chuckled dryly. She didn’t have to rack her brain to remember the countless occasions on which Honoka asked to copy her homework, or the scoldings that almost always followed. “Then, I take it you prefer working to being in school?”

 

She was mildly surprised when Honoka shrugged. “I definitely don’t miss the homework or the cramming or the stress. But being surrounded with friends made it worth it, I think. It’s harder to make friends with my customers.”

 

“Really? I’d imagine that they love you,” Umi mused with Honoka’s cheeriness in mind.

 

“I mean, I don’t have trouble talking to them. I’ve even memorized stuff about some of the regulars. Did you know there’s a woman named Fumio-san who’s lived down the street from us since before we were born? She comes in twice a week, and always buys ohagi on Tuesday and mochi on Friday.”

 

“No, I had no idea.”

 

“Yeah, I ask her about her husband and kids pretty often. She always says something like: ‘I’ll take them here one day, when they’re not all so busy,’” she recited in a remarkably bad old-woman impression. “I lost track of how long she’s been saying that.”

 

Umi smiled at the image. “It sounds like you’re not having such a hard time.”

 

“Well, yeah, but chatting with them and actually making friends with them are two different things. I only see my customers for, like, an hour a week.” Honoka glanced towards the door, falling silent for a moment. Umi wondered momentarily whether she needed to return to her station at the front of the shop, but this thought was refuted as Honoka turned back to her. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to work in a different environment,” she continued. “Then I wouldn’t have to interact with people like that.”

 

“But you’re good at it,” Umi pointed out.

 

“Yeah, I guess.” Honoka propped her chin up with a hand, absently drawing circles in the desk with the other. “I might as well be, since I’m going to be doing this for a while.”

 

Umi tried to read Honoka’s expression, but she couldn’t pick up any resignation or unhappiness in it. As she watched her trace the same circle with her hand, she realized that Honoka seemed restless. Perhaps talking about the shop elicited the same reaction that Umi had when talking about school. “Do you like working here?” she tried.

 

Honoka’s eyes flickered to her, and her hand stopped in its tracks. “I mean… if I said no, then it wouldn’t look very good for me. I don’t have anything else I can do.”

 

Umi was about to clarify whether this was a “yes” or “no,” but at that moment the door to the living room slid open. An older woman who resembled Honoka looked inside. “Honoka, there you are,” she said. “You can’t take breaks without telling me. There are customers at the counter, waiting for you.”

 

“Crap!” Honoka stood quickly, causing the plate of sweets on the table to rattle. “Sorry, Mom! I didn’t know Umi-chan was coming.”

 

“Ah.” Honoka’s mother saw Umi for the first time and smiled warmly. “Umi, do you mind if I borrow Honoka for a bit? She still has her job to do.”

 

Umi smiled sheepishly in response. “Not at all. I don’t want to distract her.”

 

In the doorway, Honoka quickly tied the back of her apron up before whipping around to face Umi. “Sorry, Umi-chan!” She clasped her hands together apologetically.  “Looks like I have to kick you out, unless you want to stay until closing.”

 

“It’s fine.” Umi couldn’t imagine what she would do during that time. Then she remembered there was also a possibility of her running into Yukiho again, and she shook her head firmly.

 

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow!” With that, Honoka quickly disappeared down the hallway.

 

Her mother, who had watched their exchange, remained in the doorway. She regarded Umi with a curious look, which made Umi shift uncomfortably. “It’s been awhile since you last visited, hasn’t it?” the older woman asked.

 

“Yeah. I’ve been busy with school,” Umi replied. Her well-rehearsed response was much easier for her to say than the whole truth.

 

“Well, it was nice of you to drop by despite that. Honoka’s still quite the handful, so I hope that didn’t shock you.” She chuckled.

 

“Not at all!” Umi returned the laugh. “Being away for so long really made me miss her.”

 

“She misses you, too. She talks about you a lot, as you still lived just down the street.”

 

“Really?” In light of what Maki had said a few days ago, about how neither Honoka nor Kotori ever talked about her to their mutual friends, this was something of a revelation.

 

“That’s right. Can you spare the time to come by more often? I think Honoka would appreciate it.” She winked.

 

Umi didn’t know how to interpret that, but she didn’t have to. Honoka’s mother took a step out of the doorway, pointing towards the front of the shop. “Oh, goodness, now _I’m_ the one chatting in the back while customers are waiting for me.” She shook her head lightly. “You can see yourself out, right?”

 

Umi nodded, and Honoka’s mother left, calling for her daughter. Umi breathed a long sigh of relief. It was nice not to have Honoka’s _entire_ family against her, at least. She pondered the chances of Honoka’s mother being aware of their situation as she stood up to leave, but she couldn’t tell based on that one interaction alone.

 

* * *

 

 

Umi flopped onto her bed with an unceremonious sigh. Perhaps she really had been overthinking everything, as Kotori had suggested. Her reunion with Honoka had proceeded without any major hitches. Sure, there were some moments of awkwardness and perhaps they skirted around each other a little more than she would have liked, but she certainly preferred that to any of the outcomes that she had conjured in her head.

 

She checked her phone for the first time since leaving her house that morning and was greeted by a message from Maki.

 

**_Maki:_ ** _hey, mind if I come over for a bit_

**_Maki:_ ** _i recorded a bit of piano and vocals for the song_

**_Maki:_ ** _i wanted to run it by you_

**_Umi:_ ** _Please do! I can’t wait to hear it._

Maki didn’t live too close to her, so Umi decided to start unpacking while she waited. She still had clothes stuffed into her suitcase when the doorbell rang about twenty minutes later. “Coming!” she called, hurrying to the front of the house. She slid open the front door; Maki was waiting there, as she expected, in jeans and a striped purple sweater.

 

“You look tired,” Maki said bluntly.

 

Umi glared at her, but she still brushed a thumb under her eye self-consciously. “It’s nice to see you too, Maki.”

 

“I was just surprised.” Maki eased herself out of her flats and dropped them neatly by the door. “We’re on break, so why wouldn’t you catch up on your sleep?”

 

“I’ve been sleeping pretty well, but I just came back from visiting Honoka.”

 

“Oh, right. How was it?”

 

“It went surprisingly well. Do you want to go to my room or the living room?”

 

“Umm…” Maki glanced to her right, where another brief hallway led to another sliding door. Past the open door was a wide, mostly empty room with rubber mats serving as the floor. “Do I have to go through the dojo?”

 

“Not if we go to my room.” Umi chuckled lightly upon seeing Maki’s adverse reaction. She turned and led Maki down the other hall. “I’m really excited to hear what you’ve created so far.”

 

“Ah, it’s not much, really.” Maki stepped into Umi’s room and looked around. She only had two places to sit: the desk chair or the bed, and she picked the latter. As she produced an MP3 player from her pocket and unraveled her earbuds, Umi sat next to her. “So far, I’ve only written the piano riff that’ll run over the verses and some of the guitar accompaniment. I recorded myself singing the first verse to see how the vocal melody sounds alongside the piano and guitar, but you’ll still be singing the final version, of course.” She offered Umi both earbuds.

 

Umi took one in each hand and tilted her head to affix one to each ear. Once she did, Maki handed her the MP3 player, and a simple press of the “Play” button started the song.

 

As she expected, the piano caught her attention first. Just like she had outlined to Maki on the guitar, the main riff alternated between two chords, and that much was obvious even in this updated version. But that was where the similarities ended. Umi had designated each chord to be played once per measure, or once for every three counts. With that thought in mind, Maki allowed the left hand to play each chord once, while the right hand, the new emphasis of this reworked riff, played brief yet complex runs that still fell within that chord’s parameters.

 

Umi almost couldn’t believe her ears. She looked to Maki, who simply offered her a knowing smile in return. Then, the vocals entered, mixed into the background but still very apparent. It was Maki’s voice, Umi’s lyrics, emphatic and pleading.

 

_“Stay here, stay in the moment_

_Where the blooming of spring never ends_

_Let’s go, down by the willow tree_

_Roll with the hills till we make our ascent”_

 

Umi immediately noticed the interplay between the lyrics and the piano riff; the breaks in the singing coincided with the timing of the right-hand runs, and both melodies were very pleasant to her ear.

 

“Maki,” she began, taking one earbud to express her excitement, “this is amazing -”  


“Wait, wait,” Maki pointed at the MP3 screen. “There’s more.”

 

Umi looked down to confirm this, then quickly strained to listen. The first verse was playing again, but this time with an addition. A clean electric guitar played a seemingly haphazard sequence of notes alongside the other two tracks. It wasn’t significant enough to designate as a solo, but it was certainly a far cry from the simple chords that Umi had used the guitar for.

 

The sample ended after the second rendition of the first verse. “This is much more than I was expecting,” Umi said, unable to contain her smile.

 

“I was trying to make it as jazzy as possible.” Maki took the MP3 and wrapped it up. “The piano is obviously pretty jazzy, but I also wanted the guitar to sound more like a jazz guitar instead of, say, a rock or pop guitar. I thought writing a part that played one note at a time was a better stylistic choice than full, blocky chords.”

 

Umi nodded, wondering if it would be worthwhile to take note of this glimpse into Maki’s songwriting process. She decided against it; Maki had years of musical training and playing on her, after all. “It sounds easy when you put it like that, but I can’t fathom how that translates into these complex and impressive riffs. Not only that, but each part contributes to such a beautiful overall sound.”

 

Maki merely shrugged. “I was just going off of the chords you gave me.”

 

“But it sounds nothing like my initial idea.”

 

“That’s just because I reworked it so much. Those ideas probably would’ve never come about if you hadn’t given me that specific outline.”

 

“Either way, I’m glad it’s you who’s composing it.” Umi nodded firmly. “It’s obviously in the right hands.”

 

Maki fidgeted but didn’t make an attempt to hide her blush. “I’m just doing what I think sounds right. Oh,” she said, sitting up a little straighter, “that reminds me. I have more good news.”

 

“About the song?”

 

Maki nodded. “Remember my old piano teacher who’s in a band? He replied to my email. His band agreed to record the backing track, for a small price.”

 

“Really? That’s great news!” Umi clasped her hands together excitedly. “How much will it cost? I’ll help pay for it.”

 

“Are you sure? It’s not that expensive, but…”

 

“Of course! It’s my song too.”

 

Maki smiled. “Thanks. I sent him this sample, and he said that they’d love to do a jazz song.”

 

“So they have experience playing in that style?” Umi thought back to their conversation on the train, and Maki’s uncertainty regarding just that.

 

“Yeah. They’re not a jazz band, but after I told him what my plan for the rest of the arrangement is, he said that it’s nothing they can’t do.”

 

Umi breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m very glad to hear it. I was starting to give serious thought to advertising and promoting on our own.”

 

“Me too. Now all that’s left is for me to write the parts for the rest of the instruments and oversee the recording.”

 

“Have you started writing those yet?”

 

Maki shook her head. “I’ll probably do the rhythm section first. Drums, then bass, and then I’ll save the trumpet for last.”

 

“Trumpet? You’re really going to put a trumpet in the song?” Umi asked excitedly. She recalled the irreplaceable presence of the trumpet in many of the jazz standards that she had heard over the past few weeks.

 

“I have a couple of ideas for it.” Maki seemed to share Umi’s excitement, if her own smile was any indicator. “Someone in the band plays trumpet too, so I should take advantage of it.”

 

“To think that this is just a few parts of it…” Umi glanced at the MP3 that Maki still held. “I can’t wait to see the final result.”

 

“You said you visited Honoka today, right?”

 

“I did. Why?”

 

“Did you tell her about this?” Maki held up the MP3.

 

“Ah!” Umi lightly slapped herself on the forehead. “I totally forgot.”

 

Maki raised an eyebrow, and Umi swore she saw a tiny smirk on her face to accompany it. “It must’ve been a pretty engaging visit if you forgot to tell her.”

 

Umi frowned. “I suppose it was, but why do you say it like that?”

 

“Am I wrong? Anyway, now you can show her the sample when you really do tell her.”

 

“I could…” Umi considered the idea for a second, but she ended up waving it away. “No, I think I’d rather show her when the song’s complete.”

 

Maki tucked the MP3 back into her pocket. “Yeah, that might be a better idea.” She stood up suddenly, stretching her arms out above her head. “I should probably get going. I told my mom I’d help her make dinner.”

 

“You can cook?” Umi asked, surprised.

 

Maki shot her a glare. “Why do you sound so shocked? I’m trying to learn, so I don’t end up eating noodles or making you cook for me every day.”

 

“The pleasure’s all mine, but it’s good to learn,” Umi laughed. She stood up as well to see Maki out.

 

“I’ll keep you updated. The way it’s going, we’ll definitely be done before Christmas break is over,” Maki said once they reached the front door. She slid it open, giving Umi a brief wave as her way of saying goodbye.

 

“I’m looking forward to it.” Umi returned the gesture with a smile.

 

* * *

 

 

After a pleasant but uneventful dinner with her parents, Umi returned to her room. As she lay in bed, scrolling absently through her smartphone, her thoughts inevitably drifted to the day’s events, and her time spent with Honoka. Past the initial awkwardness, they had been able to talk quite easily with each other. Though their conversations turned heavy more quickly than she would have liked, the fact remained that Honoka still seemed to genuinely care for her. She felt like they were _friends_ again, for the first time in a while.

 

Of course, there was still Yukiho’s warning to bear in mind. Though Umi had been genuine in her claim that she was only seeking to repair and renew her friendship with Honoka, this apparently didn’t change the fact that she was on thin ice with the younger Kousaka sibling. Although she didn’t enjoy being on the receiving end of such apparent mistrust, she also couldn’t blame Yukiho for harboring those feelings.

 

She wondered if Honoka knew about their run-in in the hallway. It didn’t really help her unease towards the situation. _I suppose there isn’t much I can do about her…_ Umi thought. _I’ll just keep on doing what I’m doing, and hopefully that will be enough to convince her._

 

As a result of her simultaneous scrolling and thinking, Umi found herself staring at her phone’s home screen. Her thumb lingered over a messaging app; more specifically, the messaging app that was home to the official μ’s group chat. She hesitated for all of a second before realizing that she no longer had a reason to distance herself from it; with her successful visit with Honoka she had now been greeted with a warm reception from all of the girls. With this in mind, she opened the app to a flurry of messages. Her phone froze as it struggled to process all of the unread messages since she had last opened the app, and Umi shifted impatiently while the little circle in the middle of her screen refused to disappear.

 

After what couldn’t have been more than a minute, the newest messages loaded.

 

**_Nico:_ ** _yo so are we doing anything for christmas eve/christmas_

**_Nozomi:_ ** _sleepover and Christmas party at Nicocchi’s?!_

**_Nico:_ ** _...anyone have any REAL ideas?_

**_Nozomi:_ ** _:DDDD_

**_Eli:_ ** _Weren’t we just going into town to see the Christmas lights?_

**_Nico:_ ** _oh yeah, i guess that’s fine_

**_Nico: @Umi_ ** _you better come_

**_Nico:_ ** _i can see you reading our messages_

“What?!” Instinctually, Umi clicked the Home button and exited out of the app. “Are read receipts on by default?” She knew that Nico didn’t mean to embarrass her, but being targeted like that only increased her aversion to replying. Reminding herself that she had promised to spend more time with the girls, she opened the app again and typed in her reply.

 

**_Umi:_ ** _Yes, I’ll be there. What time are we meeting up?_

**_Nico:_ ** _i’m still working christmas eve :/ so i’m not free until after 7_

**_Umi:_ ** _Okay, I can do that._

**_Nozomi:_ ** _yay, umi-chan’s coming!_

**_Rin:_ ** _yay :3_

The warm responses brought a small smile to Umi’s face. She glanced at the time, and was shocked to see that it was almost midnight. _When did it get so late_? She decided to retire for the night.

 

Umi sat up and reached for the lamp on her nightstand, but before she could turn it off, a gentle rattling at her window caught her attention. She turned to see the cause and almost screamed when she saw someone standing outside her room. Upon catching her attention, the figure waved at her as if it was completely normal to stand outside her window at this hour. It took Umi a moment to realize that the person outside was actually a very familiar intruder.

 

“Honoka!” She shouted, flustered. “What are you doing?!” She stormed to the window and threw it open, ignoring the harsh chill that invaded her room as a result. “Is it so hard to use the front door?”

 

Honoka didn’t appear fazed by Umi’s indignance. She glanced around furtively, then leaned in and hissed: “Shhhh! I don’t think your parents would want you out of the house right now.”

 

“Out of the house? You don’t want to go somewhere, do you?” She looked Honoka up and down with a skeptic eye; the other girl still wore her pajama pants under a glaringly mismatched sweater.

 

“I do!” Honoka clenched her hands into fists and nodded convincingly.

 

“You’re asking me to sneak out?” Umi asked.

 

Once again, Honoka gave her a firm nod in response. “It’d be just like old times.”

 

“It can’t wait until tomorrow?” Umi glanced towards her alarm clock, which confirmed that it was even closer to midnight. “And my parents might not be asleep yet…”

 

“It’s important to me, you know?”

 

Honoka’s tone gave her pause. She’d heard Honoka say things like this before, but this time was different. Gone was the thoughtless impulse, the disdain for consequence that Umi had attributed many of Honoka’s past actions to. In its place was a disquieting solemness, and as Umi looked into Honoka’s earnest eyes, she realized that this request was something more akin to a plea.

 

Or, if she were to take the idea one step further, a cry for help. She cleared her throat. “Where do you want to go?”

 

Honoka brightened immediately. “To the school!”

 

* * *

 

 

The night was surprisingly cloudless and clear. On top of that, Tokyo had yet to experience its first snowfall of the year, and as such even the nights still sported above-freezing temperatures. This didn’t mean that Umi wasn’t still cold in her hoodie, pajama pants, and sock-and-slipper combination, but as she followed Honoka along their old route to the school, she was grateful for the comparatively decent weather.

 

“Remind me again why we’re going to the school at night?” Umi took in the empty streets and muted streetlights around them. They were, indeed, alone on the street.

 

Honoka reached the long stairway first and bounded up them two at a time. “I want to show you something,” she called behind her.

 

“That doesn’t tell me much…” Umi muttered, but Honoka was too far ahead to hear her. Sighing, she started up the stairs at a slower pace. Honoka waited for her at the top, and they only had to cross the street to enter the school grounds. To her surprise, Honoka crossed the street and walked through the open gates of the school without so much as a glance around her. Umi didn’t want to be left alone on the street, so she had no choice but to jog after her friend. She couldn’t believe her eyes as Honoka casually walked in through the main entrance. _Is there no security guard watching the school at night?_ She finally caught up to Honoka in the first floor hallway, since the other girl had since slowed to a walk.

 

“Honoka, I really don’t think this is a good idea.” Umi had to deliver her scolding in a low, harsh whisper, because the taps of their slippers against the tile echoed throughout the dark hallway. This disrupted the silence of the school at night, a silence that Umi was ashamed to break. “What if we get caught?”

 

“Don’t worry, I’ve never been caught!” Honoka reassured her in a voice that was far too loud for her liking. “The security guard is always out cold when I visit at night. He must be pretty tired all the time…” she mused as they approached the stairwell.

 

“You don’t know when he’ll wake up,” Umi pointed out.

  
“It’s fine! We’re almost there, anyway!” As expected, her worries fell on deaf ears. Honoka bounded up the steps without hesitation, soon rounding the corner and disappearing from view. Umi only had time to open her mouth, an exclamation of surprise on the tip of her tongue. She heard the tapping of Honoka’s footsteps ascending the stairs, which gradually grew more distant. After a moment, the creak of a door opening reached Umi’s ears, and the footsteps ceased.

 

She wanted to chastise Honoka for leaving her alone on the dark stairwell, but she swallowed her fears and quietly climbed the last few steps to the door, which the other girl had left ajar. Stepping out onto the roof, she closed the door behind her for no particular reason, and looked around.

 

Honoka stood on the other side of the rooftop, the outline of her silhouette cast in a warm, multicolor glow. Past the edge of the roof, Umi could see the city lights, both near and far, that were responsible for this outline. If she listened, she could still hear the nighttime rush of cars, trains, and people alike, coalescing into a faint hum below them.

 

“Have you ever been up to the rooftop at night?” Honoka asked, her back still turned to Umi.

 

“We aren’t supposed to, so no. How often do you come up here?” As she joined Honoka at the edge of the roof, Umi kept her eyes focused on her friend.

 

“Just whenever I feel like it. I don’t really keep track.”

 

“What’s the benefit?”

 

“I come up here to think.”

 

The seriousness of her answer surprised Umi into silence, so she decided to allow Honoka a moment to do just that. She tried to appreciate the view of the cityscape that the rooftop offered. While her college was also situated in a decently-sized city, it was impossible to leave Tokyo and _not_ miss its sprawling skyline, its constant hum of activity, its bright lights and brighter people.

 

She allowed a wistful smile to cross her face before she realized that Honoka probably didn’t bring her to the school just to enjoy her quiet company. If the earnestness of her request earlier was any indicator, there was something Honoka wanted to get off her chest here. Umi swallowed hard. “What do you think about?” she asked, breaking their precious silence.

 

Honoka leaned into the fence, almost too far forward for Umi’s liking. “The old days, mostly,” Honoka said quietly. It was almost lost to a distant blaring of a train’s horn, but Umi heard it clearly enough.

 

 _“The old days.”_ Those three vague, generic words carried a certain reverence with them. Their implications were quite heavy, after all: long days of practice together, compositions, choreography, heated discussions, laughter and tears. The time of their lives.

 

And yet, Umi wasn’t too fond of using that phrase. Most obviously, “the old days” weren’t all that long ago. They were still young, no more than a few years out of high school. Didn’t they still have the rest of their lives ahead of them?

 

Umi stirred herself from her thoughts to realize that a silence had stretched out between them. To her right, Honoka grasped the fence with both hands, swaying back and forth while the fence rattled gently. She looked out towards the city, but as Umi looked into her eyes, she felt that Honoka’s gaze was elsewhere; more accurately, in the past.

 

If Umi’s own imagination were more active, she would be able to turn around in this very moment and see what Honoka was seeing. A crisp autumn afternoon on the rooftop. Nine girls sat or stood at various places, each in different stages of their warmup. A few of them stretched, a few others jogged in place. Umi herself would be discussing their most recent song’s choreography with Eli, before Honoka pulled on her arm and dragged her away to show her a beetle that had made its home on the rooftop.

 

Umi couldn’t see any of this, but as she observed Honoka’s distant gaze, she knew this was the scene that the other girl clearly saw. In Honoka’s mind, they were second-years again. Perhaps they would be second-years forever.

 

“Umi-chan.” Honoka’s voice was just as distant.

 

“Yes?”

 

“Do you want to inherit your family’s dojo?”

 

Umi glanced sharply at Honoka upon hearing the question, but the other girl’s eyes were still fixated on the past. “That’s a rather loaded question.”

 

“Yeah. Sorry.” The apology sounded tacked-on and not all that sincere.

 

Umi sighed, figuring that Honoka still wanted an answer. “I want to, because there’s no one else to do it.”

 

“That’s enough for you?”

 

She had a feeling that she knew where Honoka was going with this. “A more selfish part of me wants to pursue a different career path.”

 

“Like writing?”

 

The wind picked up. Umi was unpleasantly reminded that her oversized hoodie still wasn’t enough to shield her from the cold. “Yes. Mother tells me that I can do that while running the dojo, but I’m not so sure.”

 

“Ah.” Honoka seemed to realize how inadequate of a response that was, because an awkward chuckle immediately followed. “Sorry for asking such a weird question. I just wanted to know if I wasn’t alone in thinking stuff like that.”

 

Umi flushed with embarrassment as her intended compliment earlier that day, about how Honoka in her work outfit was “fitting,” returned to the forefront of her mind. There was no doubt that Honoka hadn’t taken too kindly to that descriptor. _She was just pretending to accept it…_ Umi thought, burning with shame. “Does that mean you don’t want to run the shop?” She asked.

 

“Wellll…” Honoka rocked gently against the fence as she contemplated her answer. “I don’t know. It’s a long story. Can I start from the beginning?”

 

Umi didn’t know exactly what ‘the beginning’ meant, but she figured she would find out soon enough. “Go ahead.”

 

Honoka took a deep breath. When she spoke, it was uncharacteristically soft, but Umi didn’t have to strain to hear her. “I think the only thing I’ve wanted out of my life is to have fun. You know that. Even if it was at the expense of my family, or my teachers, or you and Kotori-chan, I thought that was the point of being young. The hard stuff could come later.”

 

While Umi waited for her to continue, Honoka let out a long sigh. She turned around and pressed her back against the fence, leaning heavily into it. It emitted a concerning creak, but Umi was too preoccupied with Honoka’s reminiscing to express worry. Honoka looked at her briefly, then continued. “I kind of knew that I’d end up taking over the shop. Yukiho’s dreams are too big for that place, and she’s pretty smart on top of that. Compared to her, I didn’t try nearly as hard in school. It’s really easy to see the difference between the two of us. That’s why I never had a problem with my plan. I don’t need much math or literature or whatever for it, and it’s better than sitting through chemistry class or doing something else that I’m not good at.

 

“Then μ’s happened, and it was nothing like I would have ever dreamed of. When we were starting out, I didn’t think too many people would notice us. But before I knew it, people were looking up to me. They cheered me on. They _expected_ something from me. Can you believe it?” She laughed sadly. “Clumsy, stupid me, leading our little group to accomplish those unthinkable things. Sometimes I still have a hard time believing it.

 

“More importantly than that, μ’s became something that was bigger than me or you or any of us. There were days that we’d be practicing on the rooftop, like usual, but I just wanted to stop everything and… and…” Honoka paused, scuffing her slipper against the ground. “... Maybe I wanted to take a picture of that moment, but even that wouldn’t do the trick. I wanted to remember what we did.”

 

Honoka fell silent.

 

“What do you mean?” Umi knew that Honoka meant more than simply keeping their accomplishments in her memories.

 

“How do I say it?” Honoka took a moment to think. Umi saw the city reflected in her eyes. “More than saving the school or winning the Love Live, I wanted to remember our feelings. Like, the feeling that there won’t ever be a group as unlikely as ours. Or the feeling that we were in the prime of our youth. Something cheesy like that.” Her smile was somewhat embarrassed.

 

“I feel like I’ve used up a lifetime’s worth of good luck. Performing songs and having such an effect on people was something else, but even just _being with_ you all… It was more than I could’ve ever wanted. I never wanted it to end.” She shook her head, letting out a long sigh. “And just like that, it was over. I don’t think I’ll ever experience something like that again.”

 

“I can’t help but ask myself: ‘Is that it?’ Is that the highest we’ll go?” She was now smiling wryly, and she shot Umi a look to match. “When it’s all over, high school might be the best time of my life. It’s like I’m the main character of some anime, or something.”

 

The thought made Umi vaguely uncomfortable.

 

“I don’t know how I feel about running the shop now. I wouldn’t trade our time in μ’s for the world, but if this is all that I’m left with…”

 

Umi drew her arms closer to herself, unable to find the right words to console Honoka. “Does that mean you regret our decision to disband?”

 

“That’s the thing. We made that decision together, which I think was the right thing to do. It would have gotten so much harder if we had stayed together. The ‘official’ idol business has got to be harsher than what we were doing.” She laughed humorlessly. It made Umi shiver; she’d heard plenty of happy laughs and a fair share of sad laughs from Honoka, too, but this empty laugh seemed so unnatural. “I feel so selfish when I think about the old days, but I can’t help myself. I mean, what do I have to look forward to? Once I get a bit older, Mom will probably start bugging me about kids to pass the shop down to, and then I’ll have to marry some guy…”

 

Umi felt as though they were still rather young to be talking about marriage, but Honoka didn’t seem to share her sentiment as she continued. “The rest of you girls aren’t like me. You have so much to look forward to: careers to start, better friends to make, people to fall in love with. I can tell when we all hang out, or when we’re talking in the group chat. Eli-chan’s talking about studying abroad. Nico-chan hasn’t let her own dreams die. Maki-chan’s going to be a doctor!” She counted each person off on her hand. “When I see what they’re doing with their lives, I can’t bring up the old days, because they’re moving on to better things.”

 

One particular detail made Umi’s eyes widen in concern. “You haven’t talked to the others about any of this?” she asked disbelievingly.

 

Honoka seemed to recognize the alarm in Umi’s voice. She turned away and sheepishly rubbed the back of her neck. “Nope. They’d tell me that I’m stuck in the past.” She chuckled emptily again, then added: “They’d be right, but it wouldn’t help much.” She looked at Umi’s slightly open mouth, upon which she hurriedly corrected herself. “Ah, but I did talk to Kotori-chan about it. I even brought her up here.”

 

“What did she say?”

 

“She told me she’d be there if I need to talk about it. I believe her, but she has big plans, too, and she’s really talented at her own thing. I’d just be holding her back if I called her every time I wanted to complain about the same thing.” She shrugged. It pained Umi to see her say these things so nonchalantly. “I’ve really felt like I’m alone in this. Maybe I’ve just put off thinking about the future for too long, and it’s finally caught up to me.” With that final thought, Honoka turned to face the sprawling city once more. She seemed content to let Umi digest her monologue, for which Umi was quite thankful. After all, what was she to say to that brutally honest wake-up call? Could she even help Honoka if her dissatisfaction was so deeply rooted in the past?

 

She felt a guilty pang of relief when Honoka saved her from having to answer.“Ah, jeez!” the other girl shouted, piercing the heavy silence. Umi flinched visibly, but Honoka was in the midst of inhaling deeply, spreading her arms wide, and as such she didn’t notice. “I didn’t want to make you think I’m hopeless!”

 

“U-um…” Umi was at a loss of how to respond. Her eye twitched helplessly.

 

Honoka caught her eye and smiled widely. “That’s a lot to get off of my chest, don’t you think? Saying all of that stuff at once is really...” She circled her hands around one another to help her think of the most fitting word, “... heavy,” she finished.

 

“You could say that again…” Umi found her voice, though it was still unsteady.

 

“Sorry!” Honoka giggled. Umi watched her laugh, which had returned in full force; it was no longer the empty shell that it was just minutes before. “I told you: being up here at night makes me think about everything. Maybe it’s the view.” She pushed herself off the fence. Tilting her face upward, she started to spin slowly, staring up at the sky all the while. “I thought it would be the best place to tell you all this.”

 

Umi considered her friend’s assessment. Cliché as it was, Honoka did have a point: the hum of the city was a fitting backdrop for vulnerable conversations of this nature, and it made Honoka’s problems seem much more _real,_ if not more pressing. A thought crossed Umi’s mind: wouldn’t now be as good of a time as any to breach what had happened between them before she left?

 

She dismissed the idea almost immediately. _Honoka hasn’t even hinted at it so far. What makes you think she’d want to discuss it?_ she asked herself. _It would just be a painful reminder of both of our mistakes._ In addition, Honoka seemed to have more than enough weighing her down already. Yet, as she watched Honoka turn and turn, still cast in that warm glow of the city lights, she wondered if there would be a better opportunity than this.

 

Honoka planted both of her feet on the ground, facing Umi. “I bet you’ve had enough of me talking for today. Is there anything you want to talk about while we’re up here?”

 

Umi’s breath hitched sharply. She stared with wide eyes at Honoka, who wore an expectant, innocent smile to accompany her question.

 

 _I can’t ask her, not if she smiles at me like that._ How Honoka could smile like she did, how she could laugh like she did, on the heels of such an unabashed confession about the state of her life was completely beyond Umi. Was it just an act?

 

Then she remembered Maki’s advice to her. “Well... “ she began, looking up at the sky and hoping to see what Honoka saw. “It’s been a while, but I’m writing a song.”

 

“No way! Since when?”

 

“Um… since about a month ago.” Umi quickly replayed the past month’s events in her head. “Maki’s helping me compose it.”

 

“Maki-chan’s helping you?” Honoka frowned. “She always talks about how busy she is. You didn’t force her, did you?”

 

“Of course not!” Umi balked at the suggestion, but paused as the nature of her request to Maki a month prior came into focus.  “I mean, it’s true that I didn’t have anyone else to ask…”

 

“So she took pity on you?”

 

“No!” Umi responded, perhaps too quickly. “She was skeptical at first, but she’s having a good time writing it now.”

 

“Well, if you two are writing a song together again, it’s just like when we were in μ’s!” Honoka smiled, a hint of nostalgia on her face. “Is that why you’re doing it?”

 

“I don’t think so.” Though Honoka’s reasoning had been mirrored by many of the other girls so far, Umi hadn’t even considered that as a possible influence up until now. If it was an influence on this process, it was completely subconscious. “Put simply, I was inspired. I guess it wasn’t too different from ‘the old days,’ as you would say.”

 

“What’s it sound like?”

 

Umi didn’t have the sample on her, so she couldn’t have shown Honoka even if she wanted to. “It’s not complete yet.”

 

“Ah, that’s right…” Honoka put a finger to her chin, retreating into deep thought. “Then, what’s it called? Titles are really important,” she declared, momentarily adopting a more wizened tone. _She does speak from experience, I suppose,_ Umi thought with a chuckle.

 

Umi moved to respond before she realized that she had yet to think of a proper title. “Uh… About that…” she said in a blatant attempt to stall for time. Honoka didn’t press for an answer, instead allowing Umi time to think by nodding slightly.

 

She found her answer more quickly than she expected. It was a line in the song which, to her, most succinctly captured the acute yearning found in the rest of the lyrics. “ _Till We Make Our Ascent._ That’s what it’s called.”

 

 _“Till We Make Our Ascent?_ ” Honoka repeated, confused. Unsurprisingly, her English wasn’t as proficient as Umi’s, and she struggled to form the foreign words. “Your writing major is showing, Umi-chan.” She flashed a teasing grin at Umi.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Defensiveness crept into Umi’s voice.

 

“Nothing at all!” Honoka’s hands flew up to either side of her face, a pacifying gesture. “It just sounds really romantic. What’s it about?”

 

“Romantic…?” It was another facet of the song that Umi had seldom considered, perhaps purposely so. She recalled yesterday’s exchanges with Maki and Kotori, and how both of them had insinuated that the song was somehow related to the girl that stood in front of her now. Umi herself was still unsure just how true this was, so she opted for a safer answer. “It’s about the desire to escape.”

 

“From what?”

 

Umi shrugged. “Our lives, I suppose,” she said simply.

 

“Our lives…” Honoka let out a low whistle and broke into another grin. “So you’re going through it too, huh?”

 

“Through what?” That wasn’t the response Umi had been expecting.

 

To her frustration, Honoka didn’t elaborate. Instead, she spun on her heel and began to walk back towards the door to the stairwell. “You’ll show me when it’s done, right?”

 

“Of course.” Umi wanted to ask Honoka what she had meant, but that was quickly forgotten as she realized the implication of what she had just agreed to. “It’s a promise,” she murmured, not loud enough for Honoka to hear.

 

She shivered. Realizing that Honoka must have been feeling the cold as well, she jammed her hands into her hoodie’s front pocket and hurried to catch up.

 

* * *

 

 

The walk back to Honoka’s house was mostly silent. Umi was still attempting to process the weight of Honoka’s words, the years of pent-up emotions, and as she watched Honoka walk a few paces ahead of her, she wondered how long Honoka had been keeping her dissatisfaction to herself. From what Honoka had told her, and from her own interactions with the rest of the family, almost no one knew the extent of her longing for a time that was long gone.

 

It was quite the dilemma. _No wonder she’s so frustrated with herself…_ Umi thought.

 

However, when they stopped in front of the shop and Honoka turned around, she was still smiling. “Thanks for listening to me talk and talk,” she said.

 

“I didn’t mind.”

 

Honoka wasn’t hiding the fact that that she was staring. Umi looked down to the ground, rubbing her neck. “It was nice to see you again.”

 

She looked up in anticipation for a response, but she didn’t expect Honoka to dart forward and encircle her arms across Umi’s back in a brief, yet firm embrace. She couldn’t even react as Honoka pulled back. Her smile persisted. “What happened up there is between us, okay?” She clasped her hands behind her back and turned towards the front of the shop.

 

“Honoka, wait.” Umi called out to her retreating figure.

 

“Hm?” Honoka didn’t turn around.

 

“You said you haven’t told anyone about those things, except Kotori.” She couldn’t see Honoka’s expression, but she pressed on. “If that’s true, then why did you tell me?” _I haven’t been there for you,_ was her unspoken reasoning.

 

Honoka twirled on one foot to face Umi again. That smile was still there, but her eyes had such an obvious sadness in them that made Umi’s heart twinge. Honoka seemed to regard her for a moment, with those sad eyes, before responding.

 

“All this time, I’d thought that you disappeared on us because you were throwing yourself into your new life over there. But after I heard you talk about your problems with school and that new song of yours, I changed my mind. I wanted to see if my new idea was right.”

 

“What new idea?”

 

Honoka took a step closer. “I think we’re the same. I can’t let go of the old days.” Her expression was too serious for Umi’s liking. “And neither can you.”

 

“I can’t…?” Umi stepped back. She wanted to say that Honoka was wrong, but her own behavior in school, her loss of motivation, even her silent ability to sympathize with everything that Honoka had told her on the rooftop, indicated otherwise.

 

“Ah, maybe I shouldn’t have put it like that,” Honoka said as she observed Umi’s reaction. “I wouldn’t want you to end up like me.” She cracked an inappropriate smile. “Sorry. Just forget I said anything, then. You’re hanging out with us tomorrow, right?” She stepped towards the door of the shop.

 

“Y-yeah,” Umi stammered dumbly.

 

“Great! I’ll see you then.”

 

Umi was left to stare at the closed door, her mouth half-open but far from forming a coherent response. After it became clear that Honoka wasn’t coming back out, she put a hand to her forehead and let out a soft groan to herself. If she were to assume the role of the victim here, Honoka had just dragged her to the roof, dumped almost two years’ worth of emotional baggage on her, and left her to deal with it - but not before claiming that she and Umi had the same problem at their core.

 

She curled her hand into a fist and tapped it repeatedly against her forehead. “Idiot. She wasn’t doing all that to spite you. Aren’t you supposed to be there for her?”

 

Umi looked up at the clear sky and wondered if she was able to.

* * *

 


	6. This is What Happens

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there. It's me. Hopefully not too much time has passed between publishing dates that you forgot what's happened up to now. Hopefully this chapter will also serve as a refresher.
> 
> It's more than that, though: I've had this chapter in mind since I started writing this story. That didn't make it easier to write; on the contrary, I put this off for so long partly because it was so emotionally difficult to type out. In the end though, that boils down to just another excuse for a four-month wait.
> 
> This chapter is a fitting Christmas Eve read, for the sole reason that it takes place during Christmas Eve. So enjoy, laugh a bit, feel your soul ripped out, because I went through all of those things while writing this.

Umi’s phone rattled against her nightstand, causing its owner to stir somewhere amongst the tangle of sheets. A hand emerged and groped blindly for the phone, finally finding purchase. A finger brushed across the screen until the vibrating stopped, and the hand dragged the phone back under the covers.

 

She tried to greet her caller (and assailant on her much-needed sleep) with a simple “Hello?” but the sound that she produced sounded closer to “hnnnnmu?”

 

The caller on the other end seemed to get the message regardless. “Want to hang out?” the voice asked in a familiar sharp tone. “I’m at the Dotour near the school if you have some extra time to spare before tonight,” it continued.

 

Umi shrunk away from the loud voice and held her phone away from her face. “Ugh.... what time is it?” she asked. Her voice was starting to clear up.

 

“Almost nine.”

 

She finally managed to pinpoint that distinct, self-assured manner of speech; she was talking to Maki, who was probably judging her for sleeping in this late as they spoke. “That can’t be right.” She rolled over and clutched at her pillow.

 

“Please don’t tell me you just woke up.” She could almost _hear_ Maki rolling her eyes through the phone.

 

“Of course not. I can be there at…” she pried her eyes open to get a glimpse of the time, but the phone’s dazzling brightness forced them shut again. “... in half an hour, if that’s alright.”

 

“Sure. See you.”

 

“Mm.” The call ended. Umi rolled over again. Her phone fell from her hand, and she was back to sleep before it hit the sheets. December 24, 8:46 A.M.

 

* * *

 

 

An hour later, Umi opened the door to the cafe. She spotted Maki at a four-person table in the far corner, and she wasn’t alone.

 

“Umi-chan?” Nozomi, who sat across from Maki at their table, noticed her first and waved her over. “What a nice surprise!”

 

“Same here.” Umi offered her senior a wave as she approached.

 

“There you are.” Maki smiled up at her. “What took you so long?”

 

“Getting out of bed can be difficult.” Umi shrugged, looking down.

 

Maki pursed her lips, mimicking Umi’s shrug. “I guess I can relate. Are you going to order something, or do you just want to share with me?”

 

Umi glanced at her steaming coffee and croissant, reasonably portioned for one person only. “I’ll just buy something for myself.” She stepped towards the counter.

 

While she decided between a latte and a house drip coffee, she picked out Nozomi’s voice among the general murmur of conversation in the shop:

 

“You didn’t tell me you invited Umi-chan, too!”

 

“It was pretty last-minute.” That was Maki. “I figured she’d want to make up for the time she hasn’t seen any of you.”

 

“I really did miss her! I hope this means she’s really back.”

 

“Back from what?”

 

“From whatever kept her away from us.”

 

Umi tugged at the sleeve of her jacket, trying to focus on the menu. Naturally, her efforts failed now that she was zeroed in on the conversation back at the table.

 

“Are you going to ask her about it?” Maki asked.

 

“I probably shouldn’t pry, especially if it’s something serious.”

 

“Why would you assume it’s serious?”

 

“It’s been _two years,_ Maki-chan! Two years!”

 

“Yeah, that’s true…”

 

“Do you know anything?”

 

“Me?” Maki’s voice hitched. “No. Like you said, it’s best not to pry.”

 

“Yeah. Just because she’s back doesn’t mean she’s ready to open up. It’s too bad.”

 

Maki took an audible sip of her latte. “I hope you’re not saying that just because you’ve been low on gossip lately.”

 

“Oh, you wound me!” Nozomi gasped in what sounded like mock offense. “Are you assuming that I give more importance to juicy information than the well-being of my friends?”

 

“You said it, not me.”

 

“I would never!”

 

Maki didn’t answer to that, and when Umi returned to the table after placing her order, both girls were still silent. They looked at her expectantly.

 

“Is there something you want to ask?” Umi narrowed her eyes. She couldn’t tell if they had been deliberately talking loud enough for her to hear, but she doubted the two of them would be so brutish in their techniques. Especially Nozomi.

 

“So, Umi-chan…” Nozomi started. She drummed her fingers on the table and leaned in. “How are you?”

 

“Didn’t I tell you on Monday?”

 

“You did, but we didn’t get too much time to talk about it.”

 

Umi shrugged, trying not to let her apprehension show. She could already guess where this conversation was headed. “What else do you want to know?”

 

“Where to start?” Nozomi put a hand to her chin. “A lot. Maki-chan wouldn’t tell me anything.”

She gave said girl a pointed look.

 

“Because I don’t _know_ anything.” Maki returned the look with a glare of her own. “Just because we go to the same school doesn’t mean we see each other all the time.”

 

“I didn’t say it was your fault. Since Umi-chan did such a good job of staying off the map…” Nozomi shifted her stare to Umi, who stiffened. “It was actually impressive, how you managed to lay low for that long.”

 

Umi swallowed, hard. “You say that as though I was avoiding you girls on purpose.”

 

“ _Were_ you?”

 

She realized, too late, that she had just cast suspicion on herself by reading too much into Nozomi’s words. “I mean, the days tend to blend into one another and it’s easy for me to lose track of time…”

 

Nozomi was silent for a moment, simply regarding Umi and her answer. Then she leaned forward, her shoulders relaxing slightly. “You’re right about that.” She picked up her spoon and stirred it in her coffee, even though it was already fully mixed. “It’s kinda crazy to think that you’ve been gone for almost two years.”

 

Umi weighed this against her most recent interactions with the rest of their friends. “It… almost doesn’t seem like it.”

 

“That’s why it’s so crazy!” Nozomi sighed, stirring her coffee absently all the while. “But then again, we don’t get to meet up all that often. You know when you surprised us two days ago? That might have been the…” Her nose wrinkled. “...the third time we all met since everyone graduated?” She glanced towards Maki, who up to that point had been content to let Nozomi talk. “Is that right, Maki-chan?”

 

“I’m not sure,” the redhead said. “Something like that.”

 

“Does that mean I haven’t missed out on too much?” Umi’s question was a little more hopeful than she wanted to let on.

 

Nozomi wagged a finger at her, crushing what little hope Umi had. “You’re wrong about that. Don’t think we didn’t miss you like hell.”

 

“That’s right. Of course.” Umi looked away, flushing.

 

“You’ve been a ghost in the group chat, too,” her senior added.

 

She could only shrug. “I’m guilty as charged.”

 

“Oi.”

 

A sharp voice interrupted their chitchat. All three girls turned at the same time to see a petite girl wearing a pink apron imposing on the table. A name tag fastened near her chest had the letters “NICO” emblazoned on it in a rather unimpressive black font. “I hope you’re not expecting me to waste my break time here again.” She held Umi’s order on a tray.

 

“Yo!” Nozomi waved at her and smiled a thoroughly innocent smile. Umi breathed a sigh of relief, seeing as Nico’s surprising appearance was also a distraction from their discussion about college life. “Fancy meeting you here, Niccochi!”

 

“Could you drop the act already? It got old the first time you did it,” Nico retorted.

 

“Is this the reason why you picked this café to hang out?” Umi whispered to Maki while their seniors were distracted.

 

Maki shrugged. “More or less,” she whispered back. “Nico-chan makes it more exciting than your average café, so that’s a plus.”

 

“I heard that!” Nico pointed an accusing finger at the pair. “So you’re admitting that you come here just to mess with me, huh?”

 

“Of course not! We genuinely enjoy your company,” Nozomi said. Her words seemed to have no effect, much to Umi’s chagrin.

 

“And you!” Nico’s glare now zeroed in on Umi. “You’re the last person I’d expect to join in on their funny business.”

 

Umi averted her gaze. “The feeling is mutual.”

 

“Don’t incriminate yourself like that, Umi-chan.” Nozomi chuckled. She pulled Nico closer to the table and added: “That’s not what you’re here for, right?”

 

“Um…” Umi considered the question directed at her. Supposedly, Maki had brought her here to hang out, and nothing more. “I don’t think so,” she answered with this in mind.

 

“Then what brings you here? If you didn’t know, these two only hang out here to get in the way of my work.” Nico glanced at Nozomi and, after a small nod from the other girl, sat down at the last vacant seat. She slid Umi’s order to her across the table.

 

“You love it,” Maki chimed in. “Don’t lie.”

 

“You’re lucky I do,” Nico shot back. “If I didn’t, I’d have you kicked out for loitering.” She jerked her thumb towards the door.

 

“I’m sure you would.” Maki smiled, her voice containing not one hint of sincerity.

 

Nico inhaled sharply, and Umi braced herself for the argument that this would surely lead to, but no biting response came. Instead, Nico looked her straight in the eye and changed the subject; a wise move, if Umi were to judge. “As you can see, nothing’s changed,” she said. For a moment, Umi was unable to respond to this somber declaration, but then Nico grinned, belying that statement’s true nature.

 

“It’s good to see that.” Umi returned the smile. “But I don’t entirely agree.”

 

“I mean, I’m sure we’ve all changed a bit, in our own ways.” Nico conceded. “Especially now that everyone’s graduated. But when we get together it’s…"

 

“You’ve seen it for yourself,” Nozomi finished for her.

 

“Exactly,” Nico said, snatching up a piece of Maki’s croissant. Her junior eyed her disapprovingly but said nothing. “You could’ve come back any time.”

 

Umi frowned, swishing her coffee from side to side. The liquid sloshed around close to the rim, but didn’t spill over. “If you say so…” she muttered, not convincingly.

 

“What took you so long to come back?”

 

Umi watched the other girls’ expressions darken. Maki narrowed her eyes. Nozomi cleared her throat. Nico seemed to notice this, too, and she expressed it. “What? Is there something wrong with that question? I just want to know for sure.”

 

“No, it’s just…” Maki ran her thumb across the side of her coffee mug, her mouth creased into a straight line. “It’s a pretty blunt way of asking.”

 

“Yeah, of course it is. Isn’t that the best way to get an answer?” When Nico was met with more silence, she let go of a long sigh that could have been a groan, had they been in a more private place. “This happened the last time I tried to ask, too. Something’s up.”

 

“If you know that, you shouldn’t be so adamant about asking Umi-chan,” Nozomi pointed out.

 

Nico didn’t budge. “It bothers me that we can’t talk about it. You can trust us, you know.” She said this to Umi, and all of them turned towards her at once.

 

Umi resisted the urge to avoid all of their gazes. Nico had a point, and as Umi considered the events from two years’ prior, she realized that it _might_ be better for the truth to be out there. It had been so long, and she might actually be able to glean some advice for her tenuous situation from someone other than Kotori. _There’s nothing wrong with Kotori’s opinion in the first place, but..._

 

Of course, her long-standing fears were still in effect here. They could all hate her after hearing what she did, a perfectly understandable reaction. But if that meant Honoka would receive more sympathy for her past (and current) situation, then it was worth the risk.

 

Kind of shameful, how it took her almost two years to realize that.

 

“Okay. I’ll tell you,” she declared, staring into her coffee.

 

“Seriously?!”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Don’t feel pressured by Nico-chan.”

 

Umi looked up to her three friends staring her down. Nico in particular looked like she was about to leap over the table. “What’s with those reactions?” she asked, feeling a little pinned down by their intense gazes. “Don’t tell me you already know something.”

 

Everyone looked away at once, suddenly intrigued by her coffee, her part of the table, her apron.

 

“Um…”

 

“Well…”

 

“Not exactly, but…”

 

Umi’s suspicion grew. She sat back and waited for someone to respond.

 

Finally, Nozomi looked her in the eye. “We _might_ have assumed that there was something keeping you away from us,” she admitted. “On top of the usual college stuff. Making new friends and all that.”

 

“I know it’s bad for us to talk behind your back like that,” Nico added. “We tried not to draw any solid conclusions without knowing anything, but…”

 

“It’s like what I told you on the train. I’m not excusing what we did, but it’s pretty hard not to talk about you,” Maki said. She didn’t seem too apologetic, but perhaps she didn’t have to be.

 

Umi took in their apparent concern. “You deserve to know.”

 

“So there _was_ something?” Nozomi had long since dropped her teasing ways after the conversation turned serious, and Umi was grateful for that. This was a good, honest group to talk to about this, she supposed.

 

“Yes. Something happened the day I left, and it’s mostly why I haven’t come back until now.”

 

“Was it that bad?” Nico raised an eyebrow, seemingly not convinced.

 

Umi nodded grimly. “It was pretty bad.”

 

Her two seniors exchanged a glance. “As long as you didn’t kill or torture anyone, I think we can let you off the hook,” the shorter girl said.

 

“Well…” Umi suddenly took an interest in her coffee. “I didn’t. Physically, I didn’t.”

 

Nico leaned back in her chair, her face twisting into a grimace. “I do _not_ like how you answered that.”

 

“Do you still want to hear it?”

 

After a moment of deliberation, Nico replied: “It’s better than making assumptions.”

 

Umi nodded slowly. “Okay.” She blew on her coffee, trying to ignore the expectant gazes of her friends. “Before I start, I want to warn you: you might hate me after hearing this.”

 

“You’re killing me with this buildup, Umi.”

 

She shrugged. “I’m essentially the villain here. There’s no other way that I can see it.”

 

“Okay, we’ll be the judge of that.” Nico waved her hands, interrupting Umi’s introduction. “Can you get on with it?” She placed her elbows on the table.

 

“Do you need time to recollect?” Maki asked her.

 

“Unfortunately not. I still remember it as though it happened yesterday.” Umi let out a humorless chuckle, her expression darkening. “We might be here for a while if I tell the whole story, though. How long is your break?” She turned to Nico.

 

The shorter girl shrugged. “It’s not peak hours, but I’ll keep an eye out, so don’t worry about that.”

 

 Umi took a deep breath. “Alright. It started the day before I left. All of the... ”

 

* * *

 

 

**_April, 2 Years Ago:_ **

****

_All of the preparations had been made. Luggage was packed and appliances were readied for the new apartment. The only thing left for Umi to do was to say goodbye. That, and at least_ try _to catch a wink of sleep before that moment arrived._

_She hadn’t expected this day to come so soon, but it was only willful ignorance that prevented her from seeing just how little time she’d really had. The shopping, the paperwork, the university’s orientation, the signing up for classes - all of it came and went in the blink of an eye. In addition, she’d spent almost all of her free time with her friends and family, and she had virtually none of these fleeting days to herself. In this way, she now stood in front of the train station with her two closest friends, a looming prelude to what she herself would have to do tomorrow._

_She’d already known that her last day here would be spent with Honoka and Kotori, the latter of whom was also trying to make the most of their limited time together. After all, Kotori was leaving today._

_“Don’t cry, okay, Kotori-chan?” Honoka pulled her into a tight hug. “We promised not to cry!”_

_To her credit, Kotori showed no signs of discomfort despite being the target of such a determined embrace. “You’re the one who’s about to cry, Honoka-chan…”_

_“Me? No way!” Honoka stepped back, and Umi saw that Kotori was right: that girl hadn’t smiled since they left for the train station. Her eyes weren’t watery, but Umi figured it wouldn’t take long for the waterworks to start._

_She hoped Honoka could hold out. Was this all happening so soon, so fast? Apparently so._

_Kotori herself sported her usual smile, but it was a little more forced than normal. Spending her whole life around these girls allowed Umi to tune in to these sorts of things._

_“I’m not crying!” Honoka was adamant. “It’s just cold.”_

_She was right. April was often one of the most pleasant months of the year, but today the chills of winter were still heard and felt all over Japan. Honoka’s choice of apparel for today, casual wear complete with a thin jacket, didn’t help either._

_Whether it was the cold or the melancholy, Honoka’s face was quite red. Kotori giggled and pulled her into another hug. “It’s okay to cry if you need to.”_

_“Like I said, I’m not…” Honoka seemed to relent after Kotori embraced her. “You’ll visit soon, right?”_

_“I’ll try my best. Maybe even before summer break?”_

_“You better!”_

_“It’ll go by before you know it.” She released Honoka and turned to Umi, who had been watching from a few feet away. “Don’t be so stiff, Umi-chan. Come over here.”_

_She hadn’t realized, and so she quietly obliged by walking over. Kotori wasted no time in hugging her. “Take care, Umi-chan.”_

_“You too.”_

_“Wait for me!” The sight of them must have awakened something in Honoka, because she came barreling forward and crashing into the pair, almost knocking them off their feet._

_“Hey! Wait - Honoka!”_

_“You already got your turn, Honoka-chan!” Kotori teased._

_Honoka only giggled and wrapped her arms around the two as best she could. Umi was relieved to see that her almost-carefree smile had returned._

_“Okay, I’m happy you two love me so much, but I really have to go now.”_

_They stepped back from one another. Honoka rubbed the back of her head, her smile now sheepish. Umi couldn’t help but smile a little herself._

_“Good luck!” Honoka said. She stepped forward, and Umi thought she’d have to restrain her from lunging at Kotori for another hug, but she didn’t act beyond that._

_“Don’t be afraid to call or message us if you need anything,” Umi added._

_Kotori nodded, hoisting her purse over her shoulder and gripping her single (albeit overstuffed) bag of luggage. “Likewise.” Then, she turned, ran her card across the scanner, and slipped through the open gate, her bag in tow. With a final glance back and a warm smile, she turned around and was soon swept up by the early afternoon crowd._

_The two watched her leave._

_“So…” Honoka said. Umi glanced at her and saw a resigned smile on her face. “That’s it, huh?”_

_“Don’t say it like it’s so final.” Umi frowned, nudging Honoka with her elbow. “Didn’t she just say that she’ll be back after the first term is over? Or perhaps even before that?”_

_“Yeah, I guess so.” Honoka looked around and seemed to notice the sea of people that was forced to part around the two of them. “Ah, we should get going.” She shrunk back as one particularly grumpy-looking businessman shot her a glare in his attempt to wedge past her._

_“You’re right.” Umi flushed in a similar manner; standing still in the middle of a train station was the equivalent of a grievous sin, after all. “Let’s go.”_

_Outside, the rush of people was less suffocating, albeit no less constant. Umi leaned against the wall and stopped for a breather, mindful enough to not disrupt the flow of walking traffic. Next to her, Honoka did the same, and for a few moments the two silently let the crowds pass in front of them._

_“Now that Kotori-chan’s gone, it’s finally starting to hit me,” Honoka murmured as she scuffed at the ground with her sneaker._

_“Me too.” Umi had to agree. “I can only imagine how different our lives are going to be, starting tomorrow.”_

_“For you two, maybe.” If Honoka’s response wasn’t delivered with a smirk and a chuckle, it would have sounded awfully bitter._

_“The same goes for you, Honoka.” Umi smiled playfully, then added: “I won’t be around to clean up your messes any more.”_

_“Ah, you don’t have to worry about that!”Honoka crossed her arms and gave Umi a smirk that exuded confidence. “It’s already been three days since I made that chili pepper manjuu!”_

_“Is that supposed to reassure me?” Umi shuddered. The mere mention of that accursed recipe brought painful memories back to her mind. She had probably lost a couple hundred taste buds in sampling Honoka’s most experimental venture._

_“Of course! Yukiho told me it’s the worst thing she’s ever tasted, which means I can only go up from here.”_

_“Alright, Honoka.” Umi smiled, amused. She wasn’t convinced, but she did have to credit her friend’s enduring optimism. “You might put your bakery out of business if you tried to sell chili manjuu,” she added. “And for the record, I agree with Yukiho.”_

_Honoka shrugged. She’d given up on that recipe, thankfully. “Have some hope in me, will ya?”_

_“Of course. That’s what friends do.”_

_Silence settled on the two. Umi didn’t feel the need to elaborate or continue._

_This situation wasn’t new to either of them, especially not in the last few months. Up until then, Honoka was usually the driving force behind their conversations, either steering them into uncharted territory or going on and on about this and that. Umi didn’t mind, of course; she hated to call it “chatter,” but that was sometimes the best way to describe the verbal manifestation of Honoka’s boundless optimism. A break from that once in a while couldn’t hurt, Umi supposed._

_Besides, sometimes Honoka would say something, and Umi would be reminded that her childhood friend’s mind wasn’t always concerned with bread, with idols, with μ’s, with scraping by on that next quiz._

_Sometimes, Umi would be reminded why she had always been so drawn to this girl._

_“Hey, do you think Kotori-chan had any regrets?”_

Speak of the devil.

_“I…” She paused when she realized that she wasn’t confident in her answer. “I don’t know. Why didn’t you ask her?”_

_Honoka shrugged. “I just thought about it, and it’s too late to ask her now.”_

_“You could text her.”_

_“Yeah, I could. But I’d feel more comfortable if I asked her in person, maybe?” Honoka’s smile wavered._

_Umi mulled over her response. Honoka’s eyes were elsewhere, which allowed Umi to observe her freely. “Do you_ think _she has regrets?”_

_“Yeah. Doesn’t everyone?”_

_“Hmm....” Umi bit her lip in thought. “I don’t have any.”_

_“Really?” Honoka turned towards her and their gazes finally met. Her eyes were wide with genuine surprise._

_Umi nodded. “I’ve made plenty of mistakes, of course. But without them, I wouldn’t be who I am today.”_

_Honoka’s look of surprise remained for a moment longer before she burst out laughing. “That’s so like you, Umi-chan.”_

_“I don’t see what’s so funny.” Umi averted her eyes. She flushed red, wondering if her answer had been inappropriate in some way.  
_

 

_“Nothing!” Honoka calmed down, although her shoulders still shook with the occasional giggle. “I just don’t know why I thought you’d say anything else.”_

_Umi could only shrug, considering the accuracy of that statement. “Well, what about you? Do you have any regrets?”_

_Honoka was looking at her curiously. Her eyes were narrowed slightly, and the small smile that she wore along with it was a little unnerving to Umi. “Yeah, I do.”_

_She paused. They silently held each other’s gazes until Umi found it too intense, and she looked away. “Like what?”_

_“...You know what? It’s not important.”_

_Umi frowned. In any other situation, she would have pressed for more information. It wasn’t exactly fair for Honoka to bring up such a personal topic, only to dodge the issue when it was directed back at her. But now that Honoka had withdrawn back into herself, pushing her for a real answer would only prove frustrating and unfruitful. Umi dropped the subject with a resigned “Okay.”_

_Honoka gave her a wide smile, which wasn’t entirely convincing. “Want to stay the night at my place?”_

_“That’s what we planned.”_

_“Just making sure. Oh, but we can’t talk about you leaving.”_

_“Why?”_

_“There’s no point! Let’s just try to enjoy ourselves, okay? First one to bring it up owes the other person something.”_

_Just like that, Honoka had buried her odd behavior from just seconds ago. It would be inappropriate to bring it up now. “Okay.” Umi forced herself to smile, thinking it would be the best way to get in the mood that Honoka was pushing for. “I’ll come over after dinner.”_

_“Woo!”_

 

* * *

 

 

“I didn’t think anything was too out of the ordinary,” Umi said. She downed part of her coffee and tried to convince herself that she didn’t need any additional sweetener. “The fact that the three of us would be separated for the first time in our lives was finally starting to sink in for me, and I assumed that Honoka felt the same way.”

 

The girls had leaned in considerably since she’d started, their coffees and pastries untouched. “But there _was_ something out of the ordinary?” Nico asked, her hands balled into fists.

 

Umi frowned, looking disapprovingly at each of her friends in turn. “It would be nice if you didn’t act so excited to listen. I don’t take much pleasure in talking about this.” Her frown deepened as she briefly considered just how much of that day’s remaining events she should disclose.

 

Nozomi pursed her lips in a tight, apologetic smile. “Sorry, sorry.” She leaned back in her chair and gripped Nico’s shoulder as she did so, forcing her to do the same. This prompted a glare from the other girl, which was ignored. “It’s hard not to make any definite assumptions for two years, that’s all.”

 

“Well, like I said, the truth won’t be very pleasant."

 

Nico wasn’t about to let Nozomi hold her back. She leaned in again. “Whatever! I just need to know if I should judge you or not!”

 

“So you’ll judge me if you deem it fit to do so?”

 

“Yeah,” the shorter girl huffed, “but you knew that going in.”

 

Suddenly, Umi was reminded of the potential wrath Nico could bring down on her. _That_ part of her certainly hadn’t changed, it seemed. But she was right: the story couldn’t just end here.

 

She took another deep breath. “I agreed to spend the night at Honoka’s house, but before that, I went home since my parents wanted to take me out for one last dinner. They let me go after that, and I packed a toothbrush and a change…”

 

* * *

 

 

_… of clothes for the night. After a short goodbye to her parents (she’d see them tomorrow, as well), she heaved her backpack onto her shoulders and began the brief walk to Honoka’s house._

_She didn’t have to wait long at the front door; Honoka answered promptly, still wearing the same clothes from a few hours earlier. “Ready?” she asked, her expression bright and expectant._

_“Ready for what?”_

_“For the best night of your life!” Honoka grabbed her hand and pulled her in. “We’re gonna stay up all night, got it?”_

_“Is that a good idea?” She started to slip out of her shoes. Honoka’s house was warm and comforting, both figuratively and literally. “I’m not supposed to leave until noon, but…”_

_“Of course! You want to make the most of your time until you leave, right?”_

_“That goes without saying. So with that in mind, what do you want to do?” Umi asked at the foot of the stairwell. She was rummaging through her bag for her toothbrush, and as such she didn’t see how Honoka had paused on the first step. She walked headfirst into her friend’s still figure._

_“I don’t know!” Honoka turned around with a strained smile plastered on her face. “I was hoping you’d have an idea.”_

_Umi halted the search for her toothbrush. “You invited me over without any plans?”_

_“Yep! You know what they say.” Honoka looked at her with hopeful eyes, as if she expected Umi to glean her intended meaning from that cliché._

_Unfortunately, Umi didn’t quite follow. “What do ‘they’ say, exactly?”_

_“That spending time with people you love is more important than what you do with that time. Right?”_

_“Do they say that? It doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.” Umi had to resist the urge to laugh._

_“Don’t they?” Honoka suddenly sounded a lot less certain. “It’s true though, isn’t it?”_

_Umi tilted her head, but in the end she decided this wasn’t worth arguing about. “You’re right,” she said, laughing. “I’ll see what I can come up with.”_

_“Yay!”_

_This was their night, after all. No point in worrying about trivial things, like plans or accurate aphorisms._

* * *

 

 _  
_ “Umi, you’re really pale.” This time, Nico’s voice jarred Umi out of that warm, ephemeral scene.

 

“Am I?” She reached up and ran a hand down the side of her face. It was cold. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Are you sure you want to keep going?” Nico looked at her dubiously. “If it’s affecting you this much, it’s fine -”

 

“No. I’m going to finish.” She brought her hand down on the table, which didn’t change Nico’s expression.

 

After a moment, though, her face softened a bit. “Alright. Whenever you’re ready.” The other two nodded.

 

Umi finished what was left of her coffee. It didn’t go down so well cold. “I don’t exactly remember everything we did that night. It was mostly comprised of typical sleepover activities: we went over what I’d study in college and how I felt about it, remembered some amusing times from μ’s and from elsewhere. That sort of thing. For most of the night we stuck to Honoka’s promise. We…”

 

* * *

 

_... successfully avoided talking about the next day’s departure._

_Then, halfway through a youth-oriented fantasy movie, Umi found herself losing interest. There was nothing wrong with the movie, but her curiosity shifted to the girl sitting next to her. Honoka was still thoroughly engaged with the film, and so she didn’t notice how Umi had started to stare._  
  


_It took her minutes to realize that she was the only one still paying attention to the movie. She turned, and when she saw Umi’s expression, the cheeriness on her face vanished._

_Umi saw her opportunity. “It’s about tomorrow.”_

_Honoka’s reaction was strong and instant. Her mouth screwed up into a pout. “Umi-chaan! You promised we wouldn’t!”_

_“Sorry.” Umi shrugged, since she wasn’t all that sorry. “I just feel like that’s somewhat unfair.”_

_“Why’s that?”_

_“It feels like we’re avoiding the topic.”_

_“Isn’t that a good thing?” Honoka tried, with only a shadow of optimism._

_“Maybe not. You’ve been acting like this is the last time we’ll be together,” Umi said. “You don’t need to.”_

_“I know. But don’t you think it kinda_ is _the last time, in a way?”_

_That was a little foreboding. Umi looked down, fiddling with her hands. “In what way?”  
_

 

_“Like, when you two come back, you might already be different.” She saw Umi move to respond, and she quickly continued. “Doesn’t that happen to people? Going away to college changes them? You could chop your hair off. Or join a motorcycle gang. Or start talking in a different dialect.”_

_“I think that’s more of a cliché than anything,” Umi mused. She tried to imagine herself with short hair and a rebellious glare to match, but couldn’t fully picture it without breaking out into a smile._

_“Yeah, but maybe it’s a cliché for a reason.”_

_Umi turned, surprised at the perceptiveness in that one comment alone. Honoka met her gaze with a seriousness that she hadn’t seen since… actually, since earlier that afternoon, at the train station. “So you_ have _been thinking about this a lot.”_  
  


_An embarrassed smile tugged at one corner of Honoka’s mouth. “I can’t help it.”_

_“...Well, it’s not a guarantee that I’ll change that much. I might get along with my classmates and join a club, but I can’t see those things changing me so drastically in only three months.”_

_“That’s true, that’s true,” Honoka seemed to mutter the phrase more to herself than to Umi. “It’s more that this is the last time that I’ll have you to myself?”_

_“What do you mean?”_

_Honoka fidgeted, but then shrugged. “Dunno.”_

_That was the second time that day Honoka had said something unlike her and refused to elaborate. Was something on her mind? Even if there was, Honoka had already clammed up already. For the second time that day, Umi just had to accept it. Though it was frustrating to do so, she could only return the shrug and say: “I understand why you’re worried, but…” She paused._

_“But what?”_  
  


_“Don’t… be worried?” Was that really all she had? Not exactly the best reassurance._

_Honoka realized it too, as she started to giggle. “Wow, the well-spoken Umi-chan’s at a loss for words? I’m learning new things about you, even now.”_

_“Sorry to disappoint you.” Umi looked away, flushed._

_“It’s not a bad thing!” Honoka paused the movie (Umi hadn’t realized it was still playing) and sprang up. “It’s getting kind of late, so I’m going to take a bath first if you don’t mind.”_

_“Go ahead. I’ll go after you.”_

_Honoka shut the door behind her, leaving Umi alone in her room. As soon as she was alone, Umi shook her head and sighed. “‘Don’t be worried?’ Seriously? What is that?”_

* * *

 

_Umi stepped out of the bathroom wearing her pajamas and a towel around her neck. The steam followed her out, and she noted that the door to Honoka’s room was curiously shut. As she approached, however, the light from inside her room poked out from the gap at the bottom of the door._

_She opened it slowly. “Honoka? Did you fall asleep already?” She peeked inside when no response came._

_Honoka sat in the same position that she’d taken when Umi left, seated on the floor while the side of her bed served as her backrest. She faced away from the door, and her shoulders rose and fell gently as Umi watched._

_“It’s still early,” Umi murmured to herself, laughing quietly. When Honoka didn’t move, she switched off the light. She could still see Honoka’s figure. “Didn’t you say you wanted to stay up longer than this?” With a resigned yet content sigh, she draped her towel on the nearby desk chair and stepped over to the bedside. “This is just like you, though.” She plopped herself down next to her friend and leaned back, letting her still-damp hair splay across the bed sheets. Why was it only now that she was in a talking mood?_

_“I’m sorry that I’m only telling you this when you’re asleep, but maybe that’s for the best. It’s a lot._

_“I can’t stop thinking about what you said. About how this is the last time. I can see why you didn’t want to talk about it. It’s scary to think of how different we might be the next time we see each other._  
  


_“To tell you the truth, I didn’t want to think about it either. I might be even better at it than you, since I haven’t thought about it much at all. Maybe I just haven’t had time to. I mean, the last year’s gone by so fast. I was constantly studying for exams, getting caught up in club activities and school trips, and before I knew it, we were walking through those gates for the last time._

_“In a way, it still feels like μ’s just ended, and everything after that was just an addendum.”_

_She flushed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “That’s not to say that our last year of high school was dull. It’s just… it’s hard to compare anything to μ’s. You know that, too. Especially now that we’re leaving._

_“You never told me how you feel about that. How you_ really _feel. You kept deflecting it back onto me, saying you’d be happy if I were, too. I can’t blame you - we haven’t had much time to talk about it, either. Maybe we always assumed this would happen someday? And we’d accepted it long ago?_

_“If you don’t want me to go, I wish you would tell me. Now’s the time to say it. It won’t change anything, but…” Umi sighed. She regarded Honoka’s sleeping figure for a moment. Her back was turned, and she gave no indicator that she had heard any of that. Of course she wouldn’t: she was asleep._

_Umi felt a twinge of dishonesty. As though she was cheating Honoka by not letting her hear her_ true _fears. Maybe this was a bit selfish of her. She would be lying if she claimed this wasn’t cathartic to an extent. She could feel her shoulders relaxing already, even though her heart still thumped loudly in her chest._

_“I still can’t believe that I’m leaving tomorrow,” Umi said, her voice hardly above a whisper. “Maybe it won’t really hit me until I’m on that train, alone._

_“I feel like I should be more nervous about myself, since it’s my first time away from home and from everyone I know. And I am. But…” she reached out and ran a careful hand through Honoka’s hair, tucking some of it behind her ear. “...but I’m more worried about you._

_“In a way, you might be glad to know that I’m gone. You won’t have to put up with my lectures.” She laughed softly. “Then again, Yukiho might pick up the slack for me. I kind of hope she won’t, since we’re at that age where we shouldn’t have to monitor each other like that. But… well. There might be a small part of me that hopes she will. Old habits die hard, I suppose?_

_“Earlier, when you asked how I could relate to your worries, I didn’t have an answer, but I think I do now. I think that’s all we can do. Worry. Because it’s different when I know I can’t see you whenever I want.”_

_She stopped. It all sounded so bleak, even though she didn’t exactly mean it that way. “We’ll get used to our new lives. We have to.”_

_That wasn’t helping. Umi buried her face in her hands and groaned, quietly so as to not disturb her sleeping friend. Even now, she wasn’t able to learn from Honoka and see the_ good _in things. Even when she tried. She shook her head and tried again. “It’s silly to feel this way, since I’ll try to visit often. You’ll probably be the same as always._ We’ll _probably be the same as always.”_

_She paused._

_“...but what if we’re not?”_

_Honoka was right: this really_ was _the last time they’d be able to do this. The next time they met, it would be with the additional implications of their gradual transitions into adulthood. All of the idle days and idol days alike that made up their shared youth would be reduced to nostalgic memories over late-morning coffee. They were moving on to better things._

_Was that really what she wanted?_

_She squeezed her eyes shut. Her next words came out unsure and shaky. They were supposed to be a reassurance, but she couldn’t even bring herself to believe them._

_“If we’re not...I think that’s fine, too.”  
_

 

_Umi heard a quiet gasp. It wasn’t her own. She opened her eyes and was met with the soft shimmer of Honoka’s. Her mouth was slightly open._

_Heat rushed to Umi’s face. “I thought you were asleep,” she whispered._

_Honoka shook her head but said nothing._

_“How much of that did you hear?”_

_“All of it.”_

_“Oh.”_

_Again, Honoka said nothing. She simply stared. Umi couldn’t look away, as much as she wanted to. It might have been easy for her to start laughing, to brush her speech off and claim that it violated their agreement in front of the train station. Then they’d be able to move on to a better topic, or better yet, call it a night and avoid any more of these situations._

_Instead, she sat there, captivated, almost terrified, hyper-aware of what Honoka would do next._

_This wasn’t like those comfortable silences that Umi had grown accustomed to. No, this silence was daunting. Yet at the same time, it was tenuous, the result of too many feelings that Umi now wish she had left unsaid. They sat there, staring, standing on a string stretched too tight. Either the weight of the silence would collapse beneath them, or one of them would take the leap themselves. The end result would be the same._

_“I don’t want you to go.” Honoka took the leap. “Do you know why I never said that?”_

_“Why?”_

_“Because it won’t change anything. You’re right: I have to accept it. I just haven’t accepted it yet.” As her face shifted, the moonlight caught a glimmer running down her cheek._

_“Honoka.” Umi closed the small distance between them and brought her hand up to Honoka’s cheek. When she brushed one tear away, another one took its place, so she cupped the side of Honoka’s face and used her thumb instead. “This is what happens when you keep those feelings all bottled up like that,” she murmured._

_Honoka offered no resistance. She reached for Umi’s other hand and, upon finding it, interlocked their fingers. “It’s not the first time.” Her voice was almost strangled._

_“I know.”_

_In the moonlight, Umi could see Honoka’s eyes on her. She seemed content just to watch, and Umi was okay with that. It was understandably difficult for her to talk at the moment._

_But after a few moments, Honoka replied with a strangely unconvincing “...yeah. I guess you do.”_

_Umi paused. Her hand was already quite damp, and as a result of her stopping, the tears simply rolled over the edge of her thumb on their way down. Honoka’s tone was…_ odd _. Were they referring to the same thing?_

_She couldn’t tell. The room was still clothed in darkness, and even though her eyes had long since adjusted she wasn’t able to see what Honoka’s free hand was doing, the shape of her mouth, or anything else for that matter save for her blue eyes. She had almost none of her usual tells. She wanted to bolt up and switch on the light, but she knew that this strange, intimate moment wouldn’t survive such an alien presence. There was only one other thing she could do._

_“Honoka?” Her voice was shaky with trepidation. “Is there something else on your mind?”_

_For the first time in minutes (or was it seconds? Hours? How long had they been sitting here?), Honoka looked away._

_Umi unraveled her hand from Honoka’s and brought it up to the other side of her face. It came away wet. “You can tell me.”_

_Silence, save for the occasional sniffle._

_Earlier that day, Honoka would turn cold when their conversations got too implicative. If this situation was at all similar to those earlier ones, Umi would have realized that pressing for more information was a bad idea. But perhaps because of the moonlight, illuminating only a slant of the room, the real and pressing fear that once they woke up the next morning all of this would be lost, some combination of the two, or_ some _thing else, Umi leaned in. She didn’t realize how close they already were until their noses almost touched._

_With a gasp, Umi finally realized the nature of their position. She held Honoka with both of her hands, while tears rolled slowly down her face. The two of them lay hardly an inch apart. Honoka was staring at her mouth._

_Her instincts told her to pull back and apologize, but Honoka’s eyes (and her silence) indicated otherwise. What did_ Honoka _want her to do?_

_Umi leaned in further, never breaking eye contact. She pressed her lips to Honoka’s cheek, coming away without a sound._

_She had done something like this before, as a purely friendly or comforting gesture. But here, under the watchful eye of Honoka, it was different._  
  


_It was_ wet _, for one. Salty, too. But as Umi pulled away, she couldn’t help but think about how warm Honoka’s face was. It was as though that warmth had spread through Honoka and into Umi through that one simple action._

_So simple, yet so implicative._

_Through it all, Honoka said nothing. Her eyes had become considerably wider. The moonlight set her entire face in a silver glow. She was now crying freely, silently._

_Umi couldn’t bear to see Honoka like this. Her heart twinged. She leaned in again and began to kiss her tears away. Still no response from her. She didn’t even move. Her breathing might have become sharper, shallower, but otherwise she simply lay there, and let Umi kiss her._

_She didn’t know why, exactly. She could have just continued brushing Honoka’s tears away with her hands. Or, better yet, said something to comfort her. But she didn’t trust her words at this point._

_Was this any better? Umi was doing this for her. Was it enough?_

_Perhaps she was too lost in thought, for one of her kisses touched the side of Honoka’s mouth. She knew by its dryness and the way that its gasp sounded close to Umi’s ear._

_She jerked back, an apology on her own lips, but Honoka’s face belied no anger or even bewilderment. Her eyes were simply wide. With surprise, shock, or perhaps even wonder, Umi didn’t know, but it was more neutral than she would have expected. All the while, Honoka reached up to where Umi held her head in her hands. She took one in her own, and when Umi gave her a small nod, she laced their fingers together and lay them in her lap._

_Then Honoka closed her eyes and closed the distance between them once more. This time, she kissed Umi properly, on the mouth._

_It was Umi’s turn for her eyes to go wide. She looked down but could only process Honoka’s long eyelashes. Her eyes failed her here, since these new, warm, not entirely unwelcome feelings overpowered her. Honoka had since stopped crying, but her cheeks were still damp. One of Umi’s hands still cupped her face. The light, airy breaths each of them had to take. Their fingers, tightly interlocked on Honoka’s lap. And, of course, the warm, quiet desperation of Honoka’s mouth against her own._

_They were little things._

_Their lips parted without a sound. Once again, Umi expected one of them to launch into an apology, stammered words that would fail to explain away what they just did, words that would finally shatter this delicate moment they had been suspended in._

_Once again, silence won out. Honoka took her in with her straightforward eyes, her mouth still slightly open. But if their feelings were at all similar in this moment, she was probably scared too. Umi was. She was scared as all hell._

_Honoka got up. Their hands were still joined, so Umi stood as well. When Honoka sat down on the bed, her back against the wall, Umi was almost pulled down with her. They sat side by side._

_When Honoka’s eyes followed the side of Umi’s face, down to her open mouth, Umi didn’t resist. When Honoka took her face in her hand and tilted it towards her, Umi didn’t resist. When Honoka kissed her again, gently, Umi closed her eyes and returned it._

_Umi’s desire for either of them to say something, to bring this moment to an end, dissipated into the cold night air._ This _was what Honoka had wanted, so Umi would give it to her._

_Would it be enough?_

 

* * *

 

 

_“I love you.”_

_Sometime, at some point during the night, those words had been spoken._

_Umi wasn’t sure how many times. Whether they had been whispered hurriedly, said with earnestness, one time after another, after another… She was only sure that she hadn’t just heard them in her head, in the middle of this silent, delicate affair._

_It was Honoka. It_ had _to have been Honoka. These were_ her _feelings, not Umi’s. Because Umi didn’t want to hear those words. They were too implicit, too much of a reminder that what they did tonight might not be forgotten in the morning._

_She was doing this for her._

* * *

 

 

_The next morning._

_Umi stirred to the early-morning sun, which poked through the blinds and snaked under her eyelids. She tried to move, but quickly found that she was more or less pinned. She couldn’t roll onto her side to escape the sun._

_She opened her eyes, squinting as she adjusted to the surprising brightness of the room. An arm lay across her. She turned, with what room she was able to._

_Honoka lay next to her, facing Umi but still peacefully asleep. All of last night’s memories came flooding back to Umi at the sight. Without thinking, she reached up and touched two fingers to her own mouth._

_They came away dry, with no indicator of what they had been through the night before. What did she expect? Did they really do all of those things, during that… that_ tryst _?_

_Perhaps that was too strong of a word. They did nothing but kiss, feeling each other in a fairly modest way. ‘Modest’ was subjective, of course, since before last night Umi hadn’t so much as breathed in the direction of any potential interests._

_But clearly she hadn’t been looking in the right places. It would be more accurate to say she hadn’t been looking at_ all _. Of course she’d miss the writing on the wall if even her closest friend had developed some sort of attraction to her._

_How long had she felt this way? Was there any writing to miss in the first place? Umi struggled to recall any out-of-place instances where Honoka had been staring at her with no explanation, asked Umi for romantic advice, or otherwise acted suspiciously._

_...Then again, there were multiple instances of her doing just that yesterday. But that gave no indication of how_ long _these feelings had been inside her._

_Umi watched Honoka’s sleeping face. With those same two fingers, she touched the other girl’s mouth. Warm, but also dry. Once again, they gave no sign as to what happened between them last night._

_What would Honoka say after she woke up? Would she greet Umi with a smile, but make no reference to last night’s events? No, it clearly meant too much for her just to drop it, if her confession last night was any indicator._

_“I love you.”_

_Umi flinched as the words echoed in her head, as clear as if they had just been spoken aloud. But Honoka continued to sleep the morning away right next to her._

_That’s what she had said. Umi had absolutely no reason to doubt her. She was serious about this._

_So… did that mean she would want more? Most likely. Umi had all but accepted her, after all, without so much as a protest._

_As Umi lay there, the feeling of those gentle, loving kisses washed over her. She didn’t know how long it would be until she looked at Honoka’s face and_ didn’t _think of what they did._

_That morning, in the bright, exposed sunlight of the early morning, the previous night’s events seemed less hushed, less secretive. They weren’t buried or forgotten; in fact, Umi’s memories of last night were detailed down to every quiet breath and caress._

_There would be consequences for her actions. She should have known that. So why did she forget, or even worse, why did she fly in the face of that fact?_

_It was for Honoka. Umi wanted to give her what she wanted, just for one night._

_...But of course, if her feelings ran as deep as Umi thought they did, she wouldn’t be happy with just that. She would want more. Of_ course _she would want more. And Umi wouldn’t be able to give more to her._

_Umi turned away. The sight of Honoka’s sleeping face was grossly inappropriate for what she was thinking. Gently, she eased herself out from under Honoka’s arm, breathing a sigh of relief when the other girl didn’t stir. She crept towards the door._

_In the bathroom, she propped both of her hands on the sink and stared into the mirror. Her face was a lot paler than she realized. She brought a hand up to her eye-level. It shook and jittered violently._

_“Oh, God. Oh God, oh God.”_

_What had she been thinking? Under the pale soft eye of the moon, it might have seemed like a good idea. But her expression in the mirror revealed that it was short-sighted, selfish, and frankly, idiotic._

_She turned on the faucet and splashed cold water on her face. When she looked back up into the mirror, Honoka’s face stared back at her. Her eyes were puffy, swollen. Her hair stuck out in the oddest places. She mouthed, silently, but Umi could read her lips:_

_“It wasn’t worth it.”_

_Umi flinched. She reached for the mirror, but by the time her fingers made contact, her own haggard reflection had since taken its place._

_She did that. Technically, she hadn’t yet, but that was surely how Honoka would react when Umi confessed that this was all a mistake. Her own mistake. She couldn’t accept Honoka’s feelings, not permanently. She just didn’t feel that way, even if in this moment, she wanted to, if only to avoid the fallout._

_Honoka’s expression in the mirror had been hurt, but more painfully, it was betrayed. Her feelings were a delicate matter, so of course they had to be handled as such. Instead, Umi had treated them like they were disposable, like they could be tossed over her shoulder and forgotten once she was done with them._

_And she was about to do it again. Because she was a coward, because she didn’t know if she could handle seeing that expression again._

_She left the bathroom, pale and nauseous, a shaking hand covering her mouth. Back in the bedroom, Honoka still hadn’t moved. Quickly, before her moral compass forced her to rethink what she was doing, Umi dug into her bag and pulled out her notebook. Once she had a pen and paper, she inhaled deeply._

_Her writing hand trembled so much that the pen fell out of her grasp and clattered onto the floor. She snatched it back up, glancing at the still-sleeping Honoka._

_“She’ll understand. She has to understand, for her sake.”_

_With her shaking hand, she penned out her message:_

**_I’m sorry. Goodbye._ **

_By the time she had placed it on her side of the bed, it was lightly stained with her tears. Silently, she cradled Honoka’s peaceful face. It was the last look she would get at it for the near future, but she couldn’t see it clearly through her tears._

_She left, crying and without a sound. She couldn’t think about it. It was all for the best._

 

* * *

 

 

_That afternoon, she waved goodbye to her parents and boarded the train. She had said her goodbyes to the others earlier that week, and as such no one else showed up._

_Honoka never called, messaged, visited at her house, or appeared at the train station. It was the first time in a long time that she felt truly alone._

 

* * *

 

 

By the time she finished, Umi’s gaze was affixed firmly to the ground. Her fingers trembled; she curled them into fists failed to prevent the shaking.

 

While she had left out the most… _intimate_ details in her retelling of that night’s events, said details had still replayed vividly in her mind as she progressed through the story. How could she forget them? The whispered confessions of love, the feeling of Honoka’s breath on her cheek, and, of course, the kisses. Never before had Umi thought that _Honoka_ would be the one to offer her those experiences, the same Honoka that had tumbled headfirst into her life when they were kids, the Honoka that she spent all of those years with; she had seen the worst and the best of her alike, she had taken all of it in stride, and never would have imagined an outcome like this.

 

Nico was the first to break the uncomfortable silence. She said what Umi knew was on all of their minds in this moment.

 

“You’re an asshole.”

 

Umi clutched at her sweater but kept her gaze riveted to the floor. She heard multiple gasps and knew that the other two girls had glanced sharply at Nico upon hearing this.

 

“It’s true! Look at her. She knows how badly she fucked up.” Nico folded her arms, glaring in turn at Nozomi and Maki. “You two know it too. Don’t act like I’m the villain here.”

 

“Okay, but you saw how hard it was for her to recount that,” Nozomi pointed out. She cast a sympathetic eye at Umi. “You can put it less bluntly.”

 

Nico followed Nozomi’s gaze, but her face seemed to harden further. “She wants to know our opinions, and I gave mine to her. I know what she did, so I’m not concerned about hurting her feelings.”

 

“You should be,” said Maki. “This is a really sensitive topic. Umi didn’t trust us with this so you could scorn her.”

 

Nico’s glare shifted to Maki. “I’m not _scorning_ her. She needs someone to tell her that! That stuff is _not_ excusable!”

 

Umi looked up. The three girls all stared back at her with varying degrees of apprehension. She sighed. “Nico’s right. I’m not here for anyone’s sympathy.”

 

“Thank you!” She turned, exasperated, back towards Umi. “You know, if you’d done this to anyone else, I’d tell you to cut your losses now. You’re here to fix all that, right?”

 

“That’s a large part of it.”

 

Nico wasn’t finished. “I mean, you pretended to accept her feelings, and just when she was at her most vulnerable, you abandoned her.”

 

“Thank you for putting it so succinctly.” Umi sighed. “But I didn’t _pretend_ to accept them. I really did accept them, just for that night.”

 

Nico stared, her mouth open. “I kind of want to punch you.”

 

“Nico-chan, _please_ -”

 

“I won’t.” Her hand flew up, and Umi jumped slightly because of Nico’s supposed threat. “It would get me fired. Honestly,” she zeroed back in on Umi, “it’s also a good thing you waited so long to tell us. If this had happened, say, a month ago? You’d be on the ground by now.”

 

Umi’s mouth creased into a tight line. “That’s good to know.”

 

“Yeah, and I don’t think any of us would’ve been _too_ sympathetic to you.”

 

Nozomi shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “I can’t say for sure, but… it really sounds like you screwed up. And you mostly have yourself to blame.”

 

“It’s true that Honoka probably shouldn’t have been so bold.” Maki drew the stirring spoon out from her latte, placing it on a napkin. “It sounds like she wasn’t thinking, just like you. Hard to blame her for that, though.”

 

“As you can see.” Nico jerked her thumbs towards them. “You did all that, and you were sure you didn’t return any of those feelings?”

 

“No. No, I didn’t. I think I would have known.”

 

“So why’d you do it?”

 

It would be ridiculous for Umi to not have an answer to this after years of dwelling on it. She knew that. But after a moment, her shoulders slumped, and her hands fell, defeated, back into her lap. “I don’t think there was _one_ reason. It was the combination of all of these… _factors._ ” She grimaced at the cold, calculating nature of that word.

 

“Please, tell me what these ‘factors’ are.” Nico folded her hands in front of her.

 

“Before I do, they won’t justify what I did. But I still cited them as reasons to leave that morning.”

 

“I’m all ears.”

 

“Okay. Um…” She shook her head, wondering where to start. “I… wanted to do one last thing for her before I left. I saw her feelings as a way to do that, if only for one night. It wasn’t until the morning after that I realized I didn’t take her feelings seriously enough. And then I started thinking of what would happen when I ultimately rejected her. That what we did the night before shouldn’t have happened. It would have been better for us to forget it all.”

 

She shook her head. That wasn’t entirely correct. “That applied to Honoka, of course, but it might have applied to me even more. I think, out of everything else, I was scared. Of our entire future, to put it simply. I was scared of my own feelings, which I still wasn’t sure of yet. If I didn’t have any feelings for her, then of course temporarily accepting hers was uncalled for.

 

“But if I _did_ have feelings for her, that might have been even more terrifying. Did that mean I was obligated to take that next step with her? Especially when I was going to be away from her for most of the year?

 

“That might have scared me more than anything else. Once I started to imagine all the ways it could go wrong, I tightened up. Those thoughts were overpowering and… well, it’s probably accurate to say I wasn’t thinking straight ever since I showed up at Honoka’s house the night before. But I didn’t even consider how much I could have been hurting Honoka. Even if I did, I probably would have reasoned that it was for the best.”

 

“When did you realize that you were wrong? That it wasn’t for the best?” It sounded like a misleading question, but Umi agreed with the sentiment.

 

“As soon as I put the note on her bed. It wasn’t too late for me to take it back, but… Well, it’s like I said: I was a coward.”

 

Nico shook her head sadly, making a sharp _tsk-_ ing sound all the while. “And that’s the tragedy of this story. Honestly, what did she see in you?”

 

Umi’s laugh was humorless. “That’s what I want to know.”

 

“Off the record: you and Honoka?” Nico pursed her lips. “It’s… kinda weird to imagine.”

 

“So it’s not just me.”

 

“Yeah. I mean, you two were always at odds with each other. You almost never saw eye-to-eye. On anything.”

 

“That’s not entirely relevant,” Nozomi interjected. “Compatibility or not, Honoka-chan’s feelings seemed quite genuine. You two had been friends for so long and made _that_ work. I’m not trying to equivocate that with a relationship, but…”

 

“It fell through because you just didn’t return her feelings,” Maki finished for her. “And you kinda screwed up in showing that.”

 

“That’s why I said it’s off the record.” Nico sighed. “Anyway, huge fuckups aside, you’re here now and trying to make amends. So I guess I can give you that.”

 

“Wait.” Maki cut in. “Didn’t you meet with Honoka yesterday, and you said it went fine?”

 

Umi nodded, but then realized that she’d had a second meeting with Honoka last night that Maki was unaware of. ‘Fine’ was not the first word that came to mind when she thought of that late-night rendezvous. “It was…” She hesitated. “Well, it seemed like we were friends again.”

 

This drew looks of surprise from her two seniors. “Did you talk about any of that stuff?” Nico asked. She gestured towards nothing in particular, but it was clear that she was referring to the events that Umi had just recounted.

 

“No.”

 

“What the heck did you talk about?” Nico questioned, her voice low.

 

“We…” Umi bit her lip and tried to look everywhere except at Nico. She had to word this carefully, so as not to further incite her senior. “We caught up. She asked me about college, I asked her about running the shop. We talked a bit about the old days, and how our current lives do or don’t match up to that. But like I said, most of all it seemed like she just wanted to be _friends_ again.”

 

Nico sat back and Umi sighed with relief. “I… guess that makes sense, if she wants to make up with you.”

 

Maki nodded. “If that’s the mood she was going for, there’s no way she wanted to talk about all that other stuff.”

 

“If _I_ met someone for the first time in a few years and I wanted to bury the hatchet, the last thing I’d want to talk about is all those messy mistakes.” Nozomi said.

 

“That being said, you _need_ to talk to her about it soon.” The look in Nico’s eyes was fierce. “You left in the worst possible way, and I bet she still feels strongly about it.”

 

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.”

 

“Cut this ‘afraid’ bullshit. You’ve been hiding from her for way too long, and you still don’t know how she reacted when she found out you left. Or what she thought of you afterwards. Her true feelings, basically.”

 

“She probably doesn’t know yours, either,” Nozomi added.

 

“Exactly.” Nico gulped down the rest of her coffee and stood up so suddenly that her chair rattled. “I think I spent too much time on break. You know what you have to do, Umi.” She walked to Umi’s side of the table and gave her a painful slap on the back. “Good luck.”

 

When Nico reappeared behind the counter and greeted a waiting customer, she wore a rehearsed smile that was slightly uncomfortable to watch. Umi’s back stung where Nico had hit her. “Ouch,” she muttered.

 

Nozomi turned back to her with a nervous smile. “Sorry about that, Umi-chan. Nicocchi’s, well… y’know.”

 

“She’d defend Honoka to the death if she had to,” Maki clarified. “She probably feels indebted to her, in a way.”

 

“Aren’t we all?” Nozomi shrugged. “This _is_ our former leader we’re talking about.”

 

“It’s no problem,” Umi said as she ran a careful hand across her back. “She’s right: I probably needed to hear a lot of that.”

 

“It took you awhile, but it’s good to see you’re finally ready to face your mistakes.”

 

“I’m not looking forward to it, but yes. I couldn’t have run forever.”

 

“You walked out on your best friend and holed yourself up five hours away at college because of it,” Maki muttered, more to herself than to Umi. “Suddenly, a two-year absence becomes a little less crazy.”

 

“It wasn’t _entirely_ for the purpose of shutting myself away.” She turned to Nozomi. “What I said earlier is still true: it’s pretty easy to lose track of time when you’re living away from home.”

 

“Oh, I believe you,” Nozomi said. “You just have a bit more to catch up on. For Honoka-chan, and for the rest of us.”

 

Umi realized that, for all they talked about yesterday, she’d missed out on a few crucial details about her oldest friend. “How has Honoka been, by the way? From how shocked everyone looked, it seems she didn’t tell anyone about us.”

 

The two girls exchanged a glance. “Well,” Nozomi started, “she’d never mention you unless I asked her about it. When I realized that she didn’t know anything about your college life either, that’s when I started to suspect something might be up. You two wouldn’t just stop talking, just like that.

 

“But other than that I had no clue. About either of you, really. Whenever I visited her at the shop, she’d always ask me about how _I_ was doing. Never any interest in talking about herself. My life’s not that interesting, but somehow she made it work every time I visited.” She smiled wryly. “She’s kind of become a mystery, and she won’t let me figure it out.”

 

“She’s kind of the same way in the group chat.” Maki glanced at her phone, which until now lay dormant on the table. “She’ll ask about everyone’s day, but never talk about her own. And when she’s not part of a conversation about someone else, she’s linking silly videos for the rest of us to laugh at. Maybe that’s how she spends her free time?”

 

 _So Honoka’s been good at hiding it_. Umi thought about yesterday’s conversation on the rooftop. For now, that secret was still theirs to keep. “There’s probably more to it than what she’s showing,” she said with this in mind.

 

“That’s pretty clear now. Still, out of the few times she _did_ mention you, I never picked up any resentment or ill will,” Nozomi said as she stared into her empty coffee cup. “That doesn’t mean she’s forgiven you one hundred percent, but…”

 

“It’s not a bad place to start,” Maki added.

 

“Yeah. I hope so too.” Umi offered both girls a smile.

 

Nozomi tilted her head. Apparently her interest had already shifted elsewhere. “Why’d you come back, Umi-chan?”

 

Umi’s smile vanished. “Didn’t I just spend all of Nico’s break time explaining that?”

 

“No, why’d you come back _now_?”

 

“Was that explanation not satisfactory for you?” Umi sighed.

 

“It was _more_ than satisfactory, but it doesn’t account for the song. You come back and tell everyone you’re writing a song? What’s up with that?”

 

“Why is that so suspicious?” Umi asked, confused.

 

“You haven’t written any music since we called it quits.”

 

“I had no reason to.”

 

“Exactly!” Nozomi raised a finger in the air. “Something must have pushed you towards songwriting again! I just can’t see you saying ‘I felt like it’ and that’s all there is to it.”

 

“That’s a… grotesque simplification of what happened,” Umi qualified.

 

“So there _is_ more to it than that!” Nozomi’s eyes were gleaming.

 

“Yes.” She looked towards Maki. Her junior nodded, encouraging her to continue. “To make a long story short, I’ve been having these recurring dreams for the past year. Once the details became clear to me, I wrote them into this song, and I want to see it through to the end. That’s the other reason why I’m here now.”

 

Nozomi let out a short whistle. “Must have been a hell of a dream.”

 

“It was.”

 

“Are you still having those dreams?”

 

“I’m…” Umi paused just as she was about to confirm this fact. She realized it was quite the opposite. “I… haven’t had one since I wrote down the lyrics.”

 

“That so?” Nozomi nodded to herself, but her brow remained furrowed. “How mysterious.”

 

Maki looked somewhat surprised. “I didn’t know that.”

 

“I hadn’t thought about it until now,” Umi shrugged.

 

“Oh, speaking of which,” Maki jabbed her fork at Umi, “I’m almost done writing it.”

 

Umi was taken aback. “With all the parts?!”

 

“Yeah. I couldn’t show you yesterday since I only have a piano and guitar at my house. I’ve made a lot of progress since then anyway.”

 

“That’s wonderful!” For the first time that day, a genuine, uninhibited smile graced Umi’s face. “You’re really something else, Maki.”

 

“Really, it’s nothing.” The redhead waved away the compliment. “We’re trying to secure recording sessions for the day after Christmas.”

 

“So soon?”

 

“They’re talented players and fast learners.”

 

Nozomi, who had been observing the conversation intently, said: “Sounds like the fruits of your labors are coming together, Umi-chan.”

 

“That’s one way to put it.” Umi rubbed the back of her neck, but her smile persisted.

 

“Can I hear it?” her senior asked.

 

“When it’s finished, yes.”

 

“Hopefully, that’ll be before this break is over.” Maki thumbed through her phone’s notes. “I should have a set time by tonight.”

 

“That’s right, we’re still meeting up to see the lights,” Umi said.

 

“Are you seeing them with Honoka-chan?” Nozomi raised an eyebrow.

 

“Yes, the two of us will be going with Kotori.”

 

“We’ll meet up with you too, but I hope you have fun. Don’t be afraid if the opportunity’s right.” Nozomi reached out and patted Umi’s shoulder.

 

Umi knew what, or rather, _who_ she was referring to. “I think it’s still too soon.” The coffee churned in her stomach.

 

“That doesn’t apply to just tonight.” Her senior shrugged. “It’s timeless advice.”

 

Umi wasn’t entirely convinced. “Thanks,” she said, regardless.

 

“I _really_ think Honoka should hear this song now.” Maki was still going through her phone.

 

“And why is that?”

 

Maki shot her a look. “It’s your song, Umi. You can figure it out.”

 

Umi sunk down closer to the table and sighed. It was unsettling to think that Maki knew about her song than she did. But that was part of the songwriting process, right? She hoped so, although she’d never had an experience like this when she wrote for μ’s.

 

Her thoughts drifted to tonight. Christmas Eve. Tonight _would_ be fun, even if Nico’s advice would be bouncing around in her head the whole time.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to all of my wonderful readers for slogging through. I know it's a bit daunting to think that, 53,000 words in, I've just now laid out the entire conflict and things don't seem like they're getting much better, but trust me: I want Umi to find her redemption just as much as you do. She's been through a lot, and she's put Honoka through a lot. It's about time she gets on her way.
> 
> As for what exactly that entails, well... that remains to be seen. If it's any reassurance, I think we're more than halfway done at this point.
> 
> Thank you all again for reading :) it's crazy that we've been at this for more than a year. Let's try not to make it two.


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